Cut the Strings
by Luna-tan
Summary: For years, Izaya struggled with the guilt from ruining people. After having lived for so long under the orders of another, it was only a matter of time before all his carefully crafted masks crumbled. And when he breaks, it will take a certain blond to put him back together. Shizaya. Written for the drrmeme.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara. This story is dedicated to shizaya25 on tumblr, who posts a lot of Shizaya stuff, including doujinshi! **

**This is my first fanfiction for this fandom. I haven't written anything in a long time, so hopefully this actually continues without a lot of writer's block.**

**I've read the manga, but I haven't watched the anime. I don't actually know much of the story, so do tell me if anything's amiss. I've read a lot of fanfiction though.**

**Also, my English is not that polished or anything. I am currently in high school and none of my English teachers were ever picky about grammar, so I probably can't even punctuate things properly. OTL**

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing he noticed. The pain was a systematic sharp throb that came in white hot pulses, rendering his brain incapable of thought or comprehension. Each wave cleared his mind and clouded it too, a stark contrast, but it was similar to the way he felt. The pain was unbearable. It was agony. He loved it and hated it.

There was darkness all around him, but he could not distinguish whether it was internal-the throb seemingly radiating from every fibre of his being, or external-the lack of light the night sky gave back. With great effort, he managed to shake his head, too dazed to do much else. His vision blurred and focused somewhat, allowing him to make out the faint glow of the streetlights far off to his left.

_Both then,_ he mused, as a stab of pain caused him to black out for some indiscernible length of time.

He struggled to move his hand. To sit up perhaps. He himself wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of much really. But he knew one thing for certain. He'd made a mistake.

_What have I done?_ He imagined the plethora people who despised him and everything he represented finding him in such a sorry state. _And what state am I in? I haven't even the energy to check._ But he supposed that was fine for now. He would be able to summon the willpower he needed if he waited long enough.

He grimaced, and his brow furrowed further as the movement caused a twinge of pain. _It feels like I was run over by a truck. For all I know, I might have been. Ah, but I'm not the one with that sort of experience, right Shizu-chan? _He lay there, merely focussing on breathing for the time being. Other things just didn't seem as important right now. The pain continued, blood roaring in his ears as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

With utter disregard for his battered body, he pushed himself up in one fluid action, his body attempting to maintain the level of feline grace he had possessed a long time ago. At least, it felt like a long time ago. How long had it been? Surely it was only a week or two.

He raked his tired eyes over his body, cataloguing the damage he had sustained methodically in his mind. He was aware of how his brain, like his body, tried to go through the motions. Do everything meticulously. Document what your senses discover with great detail. It was nostalgic and rather soothing. At least his brilliant mind could keep up, even if his physical form was broken. He laughed a little at the small miracle he was given in being able to sit up. Really, considering the countless injuries he had endured. There was a sharper pain in his chest from laughing, and another stab when he sighed.

_I look like something out of a horror movie_, he thought and allowed his body to drop, eyelids sliding shut over dull crimson orbs. His mind wandered- a small luxury he had not indulged in before when his life was busy. It was ironic that only now he had time to do so, when it felt like his time was running out.

The raven listed what he needed to do. His first priority would be to seek medical help. He managed to punch in the numbers for Shinra's phone, silently hoping the doctor wasn't busy.

He let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding when he heard the line pick up.

"Shinra..." Speaking was a chore and he had to struggle to draw in air. It took a few tries before he managed to tell the spectacled man the necessary details for Celty to find him. Task done, he left his life in the hands of another for the first time in twenty years.

* * *

Shizuo glared into the room before him, unsure of whether he should walk in and beat the shit out of the _multiple_ fleas currently running amok in his friend's apartment or depart and close the door behind him so he could pretend he wasn't going crazy. His instincts decided for him, as they often did, and he sauntered through the doorway.

"Shinraaaaa, you better have a good explanation for this or you're going to need a new place to live..."

To his surprise, Shinra stumbled out of one the rooms from deeper inside, a sombre expression on his face. "Oh," was all he said. Celty followed close after, her smoke curling sadly around her.

This dismal atmosphere was offset by one the _many_ fleas noticing Shizuo's presence. His _white and pink_ fluffy hood bounced as he hopped over to the newcomer. Another look alike dressed in black and red followed behind, his gaze flat.

"Oh hi! Are you here to see ShinShin? Wow you're really tall! You must drink a lot of milk! I don't like milk, so I don't drink it very often, which is probably why I'm so small, or at least that's what ShinShin says, but I guess he should be right- he is a doctor after all. Oh right, my name is Psyche!" The suddenly _awkwardly_ bubbly raven blinked up at him with large magenta eyes. "What's your name?" He was struck by how _opposite_ this man was to Izaya with his white clothing and pink buttons, as well as the pink headphones. Not to mention the cheerfulness radiating from his smile.

Hang on.

"Shinraaaa... What the _fuck_. Why are there so many _goddamn_ fleas infesting your apartment?! And you! Don't act like you don't friggin' know who I am! Cut the crap!" He snapped, dropping his cigarette to the floor, where it was crushed by his heel.

Said doctor only massaged his temples. Psyche's eyes widened further, a very convincing hurt look flashing across his face.

His eye twitched.

"ShinShin's not feeling good... Maybe you should come back later..." The Izaya-look-alike smiled nervously. His hands clasped in front of him, rubbing his wrists anxiously as if he was afraid he was going to need them to defend himself from a sudden, violent onslaught from the blond. And he might've been right in that.

"Maybe it would be more beneficial if you did not return..." The darker mirror-image behind him muttered while he trailed behind Psyche. He was dressed like Izaya often did, but the fur trim of his parka was blood red. If it weren't for that change in colour, he could have looked exactly like the informant. But he was wasn't he? Deadpan, but otherwise it was Izaya, right?

"What was that, flea?" A death glare was sent his way. Or maybe just in the general direction of all of them. A brief count informed him that there were in total 4 Izaya look-alikes in the vicinity. If there were more, he was going to kill someone. Preferably 4 someones. Maybe more.

The cold raven snorted derisively. "Flea is not a desirable label to be attached to any reasonable creature in being, save for the insects themselves. You may address me as Roppi, and no less."

Well shit. To say he was confused would be an understatement. _Why the hell_ were there so many fleas, each with apparently different names and colour preferences, and _God help him_ different but still _annoying_ personalities. He was keeping his temper in check purely out of the simple _need_ for Shinra to tell him what the fuck was going on, which, by the way, he still hadn't done.

"Shinraaaaa..." A warning growl.

The bespectacled man's face contorted and he sat down hard on a nearby chair. But he still didn't respond. Celty ushered Shizuo out of the door quickly, noticing his rage building.

He felt some of the anger subsiding as the door was shut, blocking his view of his enemy's copies. It was in a much calmer tone that he managed, "So what's going on?"

Celt began typing on her PDA, before erasing and typing again. Rinse and repeat.

Shizuo shifted impatiently, but remained silent.

Wait.

The reason why Shinra and Celty were so glum. The reason why Shinra had come out of one of his medical rooms, tired. The reason why Celty was having difficulty telling him what happened. The _reason_ why there were so many Izayas in Shinra's apartment.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to Izaya. But it didn't explain why there were so many copies of him. Unless Shinra had accidentally cloned him multiple times. That'd be reason enough to be depressed. Severely.

Celty finally decided on a response and held her PDA up to him. Something... Horrific happened to Izaya...

There was a short silence as he digested that information. Horrific? To Izaya? So Shinra didn't clone him? Because that would be something horrific for everyone _but_ Izaya. For a moment, he had to clench and unclench his fists to quell the immediate disgusted-oh-god-if-he-was-cloned-I-am-going-to-commit-homicide feelings.

It's... He... well... He's really hurt... And we don't know if he's going to live...

He blinked. In what way was that horrific? "So? Everyone hates him."

She typed furiously, but her hands were shaking.

It'sd a bfig deall! SHinra ssaysf hew id it to himeslf!

"Huh." He scoffed. "Someone probably just tried to off him. Not that there hasn't been a boatload of people already trying to do that. He pisses off everyone, Celty. The only surprise here is that it hasn't happened earlier. Karma and all that." Well to be honest, he was surprised that the flea had been hurt. For years, the blond had tried to kill the bloody louse and he'd never held back. Every single time, the bastard had emerged mostly unscathed, but uninjured enough to meet him confidently the next time. Catching the louse was something he had aspired to do, but never actually _expected_ to do. Somehow, someone had caught him, but he couldn't really argue with their treatment of him.

This seemed to distress the dullahan more, but she carefully kept her hands steady.

He's in a coma. Shinra says he's broken many bones in his body , there are scars across his wrists and a variety of bruises all over. Shinra says he seemed a bit off before I found his body. He suspects Izaya was really depressed. He thinks it might have something to do with his condition.

"Him? Depressed? He's probably just manic-depressive or some shit. Flea's always been crazy."

He's not bipolar.

"Whatever." The blond growled. "This still doesn't explain why there are so many copies of the louse infesting your apartment."

Well... Shinra was really upset about Izaya's condition, so he asked me to do something for him. We didn't think it would turn out this way.

Shizuo clenched his fists. A small part of his mind noted it was fortunate he wasn't holding anything important at the time, or he would have pulverised it. He pushed that part away, annoyed to be aware of such a trivial thing when someone had _yet_ to tell him why his arch-nemesis had duplicated.

"So..." He held back quickly building rage.

Celty must have noticed his temper worsening, for her typing speed increased by at least two times.

Basically, I tried to cut him with my scythe to separate his mind from his body so that we could talk to him, even though he's in a coma. Shinra suggested it so we could help him and we weren't even sure it would work... 

She hesitated, shadow encased fingers hovering over her PDA.

Well, it seems that upon cutting him, not only did I separate his mind from his body, but his personalities split too. Shinra says they somehow manifested themselves. He also said that Roppi and Psyche seem to be the loudest out of the four, and they argue with the others. He thinks we can figure out how his mind works from their interactions.

He felt a headache coming on.

"And who are Roppi and Psyche?" He massaged his temples, trying to prevent himself from just barging back into that hellhole and murdering every one of the filthy devils until life made sense. Kasuka wouldn't approve when we was thrown in jail. Again. Because of Izaya.

Roppi was the one in black and red. Psyche is that bubbly one clad in white.

"You said 'how his brain worked'. What does that mean? The flea's paranoid. As if he'll ever allow you to know what he's thinking." And it was a fair comment. Izaya played mind games, fucked around with others' lives, left a trail of mental destruction and laughed. But he was never the victim of said games. Always the winner.

The... alternates, if that's what you'd call them- they don't have all the memories Izaya had. They have his intellect and his knowledge of general things, but they don't have all the past experiences or information on other people Izaya knew. They remember certain bits from here and there, but we think his memories from high school and onwards are gone.

"So pretty much you could pick apart his brain from these alternates?" His brow furrowed in thought. Maybe they could find out his weaknesses and give the flea a taste of his own medicine. He liked the sound of that. Humiliate him in public or some shit.

That's what we're trying to do.

"Huh." Absently, he played with the cardboard lid of a small box in his pocket. Damn, he wanted a cigarette.

Actually... There's two of them we thought maybe you should meet. Celty held up her PDA to his face almost timidly. As if she knew he would reject her offer.

"I don't-" A pause. Maybe he could use this to his advantage? If they didn't remember him, but they had all the knowledge of Izaya, then he might be able to extort information about the louse.

"Fine."

If Celty was surprised, she didn't show it much. The only indication she gave was the slight curling of dark smoke swirling from her neck. A nod of the head and he was following her back into Shinra's apartment.

Upon second entry, he could see Roppi wandering into another room, Psyche bouncing after him and holding on to a too-long sleeve of his counter-part. Fortunately, Celty directed him towards the kitchen instead. He really didn't want to deal with Roppi and Psyche, even if he was looking to use them for his own means.

To his astonishment, there was an Izaya look-alike in a white and pink kimono behind the stove. A delicious smell wafted from the pot he was stirring, carrying the mouth-watering scents of tomatoes, onions and Italian herbs to his sensitive nose. Another pot rested next to it, into which the raven occasionally inserted a wooden spoon and stirred.

He turned when he heard them walk in, and his head inclined in acknowledgement. "Celty-san. And is this a guest?" His voice was soft and gentle, much like the expression on his face- an expression he had never seen the flea wear.

She typed to him quickly in reply and held up her PDA. His eyes skimmed quickly over the screen before he turned to Shizuo and bowed slightly.

"Shizuo-san, welcome. My name is Sakuraya. Are you staying for lunch? I made extra for tomorrow, but I would be pleased to serve you today." His eyes were fuchsia like Psyches' but they were a lighter shade, more like a pastel pink. His smile was warm, but also sad, as if there was something darker overshadowing his thoughts.

He was speechless. This was meant to be a part of Izaya? There was no way the flea could actually be like this. He stared for a moment, before he realised Sakuraya had asked him a question.

"Uhh... I guess? If that's alright with you..." He looked to Celty for confirmation, who made an exaggerated nod to make up for her lack of a head.

"Ah well, lunch is almost ready. I trust you will probably be looking to meet Hibiya as well?" An eyebrow arched slightly.

Celty nodded again. The second time seemed more comical than the last, and Sakuraya's lips quirked.

"I would hate to be a bad host- ah forgive me. This is not even my apartment... but more importantly... Celty-san, I understand you will be keeping Shizuo-san company? I would rather not leave the pots unattended, but I would not ask a guest to wait in the kitchen to be entertained."

In response, Celty tugged on Shizuo's sleeve, pulling him towards the doorway to the living room again. The bartender went willingly, but his brow furrowed in consternation. Even if Celty had explained to him what had happened, there was little in the familiar apartment he understood currently. He knew there were several fleas dirtying the doctor's home, that they were different parts of Izaya's (who was apparently almost dead- a real shame) personality, split because of Celty's scythe, and that the one he just met was displaying characteristics he had never seen. Well okay.

Celty's explanation left more questions than it gave answers. For instance, where did Sakuraya come from? As far as he had known, Izaya had never cared for anyone in his life. Which is saying something, because he (grudgingly) admits that he was one of the few people who knew the raven better than everyone else. Which is also, at the same time, not saying something, because no one knew jack shit about Izaya to begin with. Not that he's heard of anyway. Not that he listened to talk about the flea. His brow twitched.

Lost in his thoughts, which were starting to become increasingly annoying, he failed to notice the relieved slump of Celty's shoulders when they came across another clone. This one was decked out in yellow and white. A ridiculous prince outfit clothed his lithe body, and Shizuo couldn't help but think that such self-important seeming clothes were completely typical of the informant he had known.

When had he started to refer to Izaya in past tense?

"Celty." Gold eyes swept disapprovingly over the blond's form. It was immediately obvious that this one lacked the warm aura Sakuraya had given off, as well as the bitterness Roppi held, and the childishness of Psyche. No, if he were to pick a word to describe the 'prince', it was tired.

The dullahan typed a response and offered her PDA for him to read.

"I see." He observed Shizuo silently for a few moments and commented, "You and I are not so different. Had circumstances been more favourable back then, perhaps one could have found solace in mutual misery." Finished with the conversation, he turned onto his side, facing away from the pair as he settled himself comfortably on the couch again. Shizuo had little idea of what the raven was on about.

Even in a coma, Izaya was single-handedly the most confusing person Shizuo had known. Knew. He was the single-handedly the most confusing person he knew. _Use present tense, or you're going to get too relaxed at his absence._ He mentally chided himself and waved away Celty's typed apologies for Hibiya's behaviour. It was odd that he didn't feel rage building at the sight and sound of Izaya (well not Izaya, but it was Izaya at the same time and- and _god damn it _who even cared what he called him now?) but he attributed it to the bizarre experience.

"Well if that's it, then I'm going to go. I have no intention of meeting Roppi and Psyche again." Shizuo scratched the back of his head, trying to process all the information he had learned in the past half hour. "And I just remembered I have to do another shift with Tom, so I can't stay for lunch. I'll grab something on the way there. "

When Celty gave him an affirmative, he exited his friends' flat, still brooding over the day's events.

Somehow, he felt, there was something a lot deeper to this whole mess. Too many holes in their understanding. Too many open ends.

_Bastard, of course even on his death-bed he has to give us a puzzle to confound us. Damn flea never makes it easy._ Given the utter mystification from his newfound knowledge, he figured he deserved a cigarette. Heck, he should buy a couple more packs just in case. Knowing there were four crazy fleas definitely warranted more cigarettes. Maybe some cake while he was at it.

With this conclusion in mind, he set off towards the nearest convenience store, but not before acting on a whim and looking back.

The window of Shinra's apartment was one of the few without the glare, and he could see a red and black clad figure attacking one in pink and white, while another wearing the same colours as the victim watched. Assumedly from deeper in the apartment, a princely duplicate strode between them with his arms up in a placating gesture. Roppi stormed away after a few moments, with Psyche following behind. Sakuraya didn't move.

The blonde walked away.

* * *

**Hopefully that was okay. I've written quite a bit more, but I think the flow of the story is a bit awkward? Ohhhhh, my horrible writing. .**


	2. Chapter 2

**Katsura018: Thank you! I'm glad I could portray them okay. **

**After the Dark, AnimeL.O.V.E. , Guest: Thanks for reading!**

**Ari: It won't be hard to figure out what happened to Izaya, but you wouldn't be getting the most interesting details until later! =D**

* * *

It was dark. That was all it seemed to be nowadays, but he didn't care. Inside the deep vestigial corners of his mind, he rested for the first time in years. He was aware of his surroundings and he knew where he was. There was nothing all around him.

But there was a floor. He could feel it beneath his feet as he walked in silence. There were no walls, and he knew if he continued walking endlessly, he would not meet a vertical surface. He walked anyway. It gave him something to do. Not that he needed something to do. It wasn't as if he was conscious and in need of distracting.

It would be a long time before he woke up. He was content with that. Over the years, the raven had become increasingly tired of life in the fast lane. He had not lived as 'long' is defined in modern society, nor had he lived 'well'. Had he been awake, and had there been someone to listen, he would have said he grew up in a relatively normal family. Izaya was also aware that his definition of 'normal' and the majority view of 'normal' were not the same. He didn't care.

His head hurt, his body hurt and his heart hurt. He was tired of pretending- being a puppet to someone else. It was ironic how everyone believed him to be the oppressive puppeteer, when he wasn't even the one pulling the strings.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. _He_ wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be stronger. He wasn't supposed to get caught.

He had lived a lie; a lie woven carefully and intricately until it became a web that trapped him. Once he was in deep, he could not escape. Lies he had said to others; lies he had said to himself- it was all the same. Eventually even he got confused as to what was real and what was fabricated. But he had protected them. The people he loved and cared for. That was all that mattered. He was never part of their happiness. He never asked for anything in return. He never received anything in return.

But he was glad he was hurt, in a twisted sort of way, even if it was because his control had slipped. (Control? Hah, he'd never _had_ control.) Because in a twisted sort of way, it felt like he was paying for all the things he had done, and as long as it was like _this_, he could take it. It was a weird inner relief at suffering, because he deserved so much more pain than he was getting. And he _wanted _to feel pain, because he felt he needed to punish himself for everything. It felt so _wrong_ to hurt others, even after so many years of ruthless manipulation. It wasn't how he really was, but his masks were pre-made and he was merely forced to wear them.

They say it's harder to reach out to people for help than it is to struggle alone. In fact, he often observed the opposite. People crave contact with others. It was natural for creatures of the same species to flock together out of mutual need. Humans were no different. When things get difficult alone, they asked others to do things for them. Out of laziness or hurt- it varied. He was different. Although he told others he was above humans, he knew better. That was just bullshit he was forced to say when he knew he was one of the weakest out there. He didn't trust anyone. How could he? If anyone knew, his sisters could be in trouble. His façade could falter.

He was rambling. His mind, lax with nothing to do, was coming up with useless thoughts.

_I must be in a coma_, he concluded absently. _I want to stay like this for a while, but I have to wake up soon. Mairu and Kururi need me._

He stopped walking. His slender body must have been emitting some sort of white light or something because he could see himself clearly, despite there being no other light around. There were no injuries on his mental manifestation of himself. He was quite sure that other people did not experience an inner world when they were in a coma. Then again, he wasn't normal.

He had felt it when his mind had split. The scythe had tugged at his consciousness, but he had refused it for the most part. When Celty cut him, she forced parts of his mind to leave. He only let certain parts go. There were things the doctor and the dullahan didn't need to know.

Izaya could feel his mind interacting with others- with Shinra, with Celty, and for some reason, Shizuo. That he hadn't understood. The blond hadn't stayed long, however, so he hadn't any indication as to why he had been there. Or why he hadn't simply beaten up his copies.

Briefly, he wondered what would happen if someone were to kill his alternate personas walking around (they weren't really personas, more like puzzle pieces of his personality which made up the whole, but he liked to pretend some of them didn't exist). Probably nothing. He had no idea.

Vaguely he was aware of how his copies took in knowledge of their surroundings. They were technically still part of him, even while they were separate.

Shinra was upset, having come to the conclusion that Izaya had endured a horrible ordeal. (He'd be only partly right with that. Izaya had, in fact, been through numerous horrible ordeals. But he supposed if Shinra wanted to think of the entirety of Izaya's life as one, large, miserable struggle, he was welcome to.) Celty was confused and worried, more over Shinra than his currently comatose self. That was justifiable. The dullahan had little love for him, and he had no reason to expect anything more. And Shizuo? If he didn't know what was going through the blond's head when he was conscious and actively observing, he had even less of an idea now that he was detached.

After the debt collector left, he felt himself, or at least the disconnected parts of himself, fighting. Roppi and Sakuraya. No surprise there. They were the most conflicting sides of him. (Just to make things clear, he had not, and would not ever have named them. That was just ridiculous. They named themselves when they manifested and it had nothing to do with him.)

It was something trivial. Roppi had snapped at Celty earlier and Sakuraya was telling him off for his bad manners. Things had escalated until Roppi was pointing out how weak Sakuraya was, and how they would all just be more _harmonic_ (no doubt that was said with a mocking sneer, given how partial to peace Sakuraya was and how adverse to it Roppi was) if Sakuraya disappeared.

The calmer male had replied that he was a part of Izaya too, and perhaps a stronger part than Roppi gave him credit _because_ he hadn't been wiped out by Roppi's lies. One thing led to another until Hibiya had to interfere before Sakuraya got severely hurt. His kinder half had slid to the floor from the blows, but only so Roppi would be satisfied. Strangely enough, he had felt the pain, but his flowery counterpart sustained no injury.

He pondered Roppi's words. Were they not also his words, since Roppi was a part of him? Izaya himself didn't know sometimes. He didn't often examine himself, and it was odd that he could do so as clearly as he could now. It was also odd that he could observe himself without really _being_ himself per se.

His parts were rather quiet now, and he was able to just think of nothing for the moment. Unlike most people the simple lack of stimuli he had to take in comforted and calmed him. He entertained the idea of the nothingness being there because of his longing for peace and deemed it probable. But enough analysing. Now was the time to rest.

He sighed tiredly.

It was dark.

He walked.

* * *

The white sheets glowed, painfully so, as lacy curtains were drawn back and his previously dark room was bathed in cheerful, bright sunlight. Birds were chirping sweetly and he could vaguely make out a clear, blue, cloudless sky. Beyond the glass doorway to the outside, he could hear the sound of children laughing and the wind made the leaves rustle gently on their branches.

He hated mornings. It was too damn early. Grumbling to himself, he ambled into the bathroom to start his morning routine. Events from the previous day swirled around his half conscious brain, driving him mad. It was too damn early to be thinking of the flea.

But here he was. For Shizuo, he never really had to analyse in the way Izaya did. Things he needed to know didn't really require much in depth thinking, and often merely letting his mind drift from topic to topic was enough to make definitive answers. Enough for him. No doubt the level of (useless) crap Izaya delighted in dissecting was just a complex messy load of well...crap that reeked of bad intentions and- where was he going with that again? Whatever.

Moving on. Thinking of Izaya's mocking laughter and heinous plots were going to give him a headache.

It was weird knowing that he could look forward to a day without the flea interfering in his business. It was even weirder knowing that was all because the flea was in a coma for god knows how long. (He'd never been religious, but if praying to said God to keep the flea out of his life for longer worked, he'd go to church every Sunday.)

And why had it happened? Some poor soul whose life had been fucked over by the informant got his hands on the slippery bastard and gave him what had been coming for years. That was nothing to worry about, surely? Heck, he was going to get that cake he'd been thinking of yesterday.

Of course, the fact that Shinra said he'd done it to himself was something different. The idea of suicide sickened him, and he wondered how badly the louse was hurt. Come to think of it, he hadn't even seen head or tail of the actual information broker the other day. Maybe that was worth seeing. If the flea was dreadfully injured, wouldn't his suffering please him?

But no. He wasn't that cruel, not like Izaya. Sure it was an uncomfortable thought to think of his worst enemy as being maimed or whatever, but he wasn't really that concerned. It wasn't like Izaya was innocent or anything. The way he saw it, it was just nature's way of evening out the pain- you get what you dish out after all. Izaya was just getting a larger proportion of it back than any of them had expected.

In hindsight, he shouldn't have agreed to see Sakuraya or Hibiya. Getting more deeply involved only spelled out trouble. He should just steer clear of anything to do with the flea. There was no point enduring hardship on his part.

He finished with his routine, grabbed his sunglasses on the way out and headed to work.

* * *

"They're weirdly puppy-like when they're asleep. I wonder if Izaya's like that when he sleeps." Shinra whispered.

Maybe. But it's definitely a lot quieter now. Even he looks harmless when asleep.

"He does," he agreed. The two stood in the doorway of the spare room they had allowed the alternates to use, observing the way the four of them shared the same bed.

Hibiya was on the centre-left side, lying on his back with his arms to either side of his body. Sakuraya lay on his left arm, curled up on his side, facing the prince. Roppi was facing away from Hibiya on his right, but also rested on his arm. He was curled up like Sakuraya, but his head used Psyche's side as a pillow. Lastly, Psyche had settled around Roppi's head, much like a dog, and was the only one oriented in line with the head of the bed.

"They should be up in any moment now."

In the way that he often did, Shinra sensed Celty's agreement, despite the dullahan not offering a tangible reply.

"Do you have to go soon?"

Yes. I have a job in Shinjuku.

"Ok then. Be careful, my beautiful goddess! Let our love connect us across the- oof!" A sheepish smile adorned the brunet's face as he rubbed the newly sore spot on his torso.

"Come back safely!" He called after the headless woman. He received a wave in return as Celty left.

With a dorky smile, he turned back towards the room and started slightly. Golden eyes observed him silently and the doctor could see conflicted emotions swirling in their depths. Noticing Shinra's scrutiny, honey-coloured orbs narrowed and Hibiya rose from the bed, detangling himself from Sakuraya and Roppi.

There was some movement from the gentle raven who had been lying on his arm and Hibiya paused to reassure him, rubbing his back with an uncharacteristically light touch. (It was uncharacteristic for Izaya, but he supposed since they were separated, anything was on the table.) After Sakuraya stilled again, his more serious equivalent moved towards the door. As he passed the brunet, he gave him a meaningful stare and then continued into the living room to settle on the couch.

Picking up on the body language, the bespectacled man followed and perched on an armrest, waiting for Hibiya to speak.

"You two are close." His voice was so soft, it was barely audible.

"Does it seem so?" It was not hard to tell the doctor was pleased. "She denies it at times, but I know my darling Celty looks forward to returning to our love nest!"

"When I bid you to give counsel to me, it was not so I would be subject to your dithering affections."

"Haha, sorry." Despite Hibiya's scathing words, Shinra still wore a silly grin. "What advice were you looking for?" He had to admit, he was curious. Izaya had never asked for advice of any sort, probably having the mind that he knew everything and didn't need others' opinions. But he supposed that was, to some extent, justified, since the informant always _did_ know everything.

The raven was silent for a while.

"Is it considered a weakness or a strength of character to choose to endure hardship by oneself?"

The first thing that went through his head was that Hibiya's way of speech was very odd. It was quite formal and rather detached. Maybe it had something to do with his attire and Izaya's way with words? After giving the question more thought, he chose his words carefully.

"Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. Often we judge the strength of a person's character on whether they choose to do the hard thing or take the easy way out. And sometimes we judge them based on whether they do the right thing or the wrong thing. Izaya as I knew him didn't trust anyone, so it would have been harder for him to tell others he was suffering. You could say it was a weakness. At the same time, it's a larger burden to bear if you try to suffer alone, so it could also be a strength." As he had been speaking, the brunet had kept his gaze locked on the ground, but he looked up now. "What do you think?"

Hibiya inclined his head. "It depends on one's circumstance. At times, it may prove more difficult remain silent and bear the torment by oneself, especially if such afflictions are borne unwillingly." He stood and walked back to the spare room he shared with his alternates, but not before adding, "Because sometimes, one finds oneself in a situation where to struggle alone is to save others pain. What can be seen is not always what is."

He left Shinra in a state of deep contemplation. _Was I the one giving advice or the one being advised?_

He shook his head as if to clear it and went to make himself a cup of coffee. Absently, the brunet took out the necessary ingredients and mixed them in the right proportions. Physically he was in the kitchen, but his mind was elsewhere. _It becomes very obvious that something was wrong the more I think about it. Izaya... What happened to you?_ The most obvious thing was that Izaya had been sorely depressed and hurt himself in a random outburst of negative emotions. Seeing as Hibiya had just warned him otherwise, the obvious could be out of the question. There was no way to tell for certain until Izaya awoke, and even then the doctor was sure they wouldn't be receiving any straight answers.

The sound of footsteps behind him broke him out of his reverie. Upon turning his attention backwards, it became evident that Hibiya had woken the others.

"Good morning, ShinShin!" Psyche bounced over to the doctor, one of his hands tugging at Roppi's sleeve and pulling him along.

"Ah, good morning. Did you sleep well?" Shinra stirred the earthy bitter-sweet liquid in his mug, his eyes scanning languidly over the four Izaya look-alikes.

"Yes, thank you! Roppi-chan didn't have to wake me for his nightmares this time, so I slept like a log!" An infectiously bubbly raven beamed at the doctor, his smile more like the hallmark of illegal drugs than good humour.

"Is that so?" Shinra raised an eyebrow at this. "What kind of nightmares do you have? Maybe I could give you something for them." He remarked casually.

"I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work." Claret orbs narrowed in distrust.

"What are you talking about?" Internally, the brunet sighed. Of course extracting information from anyone born of Izaya would be difficult. It certainly didn't help that he tended to be somewhat transparent.

"You're not my god damn therapist and I don't want you in my head." Roppi replied coldly.

Resignedly, Shinra held up his hands in the universal gesture of peace. "I concede defeat!" He sighed dramatically.

In return, he was regarded darkly for a few moments and then the grumpy informant was leaving the room. (Could he call Roppi an informant? He wasn't really Izaya, but he was at the same time. It didn't really matter what he called them now- they were so many different things.) Psyche, who had not let go of his sleeve, went along with him willingly.

"Do not feel disgruntled with Roppi. He is often thus and has been so since his materialisation."

"Nah, his cold demeanour doesn't faze me."

"That's good." Sakuraya smiled. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something also."

"Shoot." Shinra blinked. Well he was getting a lot of traffic now.

"Have you contacted anyone about Izaya's... condition?" His lips turned downwards at the corners as he raised a silk sleeve to his mouth. Sakuraya stared past Shinra, apparently interested in a newspaper folded on the coffee table.

"No... I didn't think about that. His family should know he's hurt. You wouldn't happen to know how to contact them, would you?" It was a little strange hearing the manifestations talking about Izaya like he was a separate person. Up until now, none of them had mentioned the original at all and he had been under the impression that they didn't care about his injuries. Good job, Shinra. There's another misconception you need to rectify about Izaya. It definitely won't be the last.

"Hibiya and I can pay them a visit. The girls will want to hear it from us." Sakuraya nodded absently.

"It is our understanding that you have other matters to attend to, therefore you need not accompany us." Hibiya added. Something about the tension in his form told the doctor theirs was a family reunion he wasn't meant to intrude upon.

"Alright! I have a house-call to make later anyway. I would say call me if you need anything, but you don't have a cell, do you?"

"We do not require any assistance, as of today. Perhaps in the future, we may humbly beg your aid and hope in doing so, do not become a hindrance."

"Err, right. Take care, guys!"

"We will. Thank you for your concern." Sakuraya bowed slightly as he glided over to the door.

Hibiya stopped momentarily when he was behind Sakuraya to call to the other occupants of the apartment. "Sakuraya and I depart for Izaya's family. If one desired to go along, it would not be wholly unwelcome."

"Pass along our condolences. I don't think the girls want to see me." Roppi replied from the other room.

"Indeed. Regarding that invitation, I was referring to Psyche."

"Nope! I don't go anywhere without Roppi-chan! We might go out elsewhere later. Make sure you guys aren't seen, or Iza-chan's going to have problems later trying to explain us!"

"Of course."

Amidst the shuffling, Shinra slipped into the room where Izaya rested. He could faintly hear the alternates discussing their plans for the day through the door, but he ignored them for now.

There was so little colour in the room. The walls were white. The linens were white. The bandages were white and where Izaya's skin was not covered with them or bruises, it was white. The most significant thing of colour in that room was the informant's hair, and that didn't really count. He sighed, starting the check-up. There was no change in the raven's condition, even as his parts were being lively just outside. In this room, it was still, blank and smelled chemically clean.

It felt so... empty. It was wrong. For as long as Shinra had known him, Izaya had been a charismatic, charming man. He could cause someone to be pissing-their-pants uncomfortable one moment and to be star-struck awed the next. He could fill any blank with words spun by a golden tongue and convince a person walking down the street that the sky was green. Women and men alike found themselves bewitched by his beauty and sugar-coated words, a deadly combo that had them eating out of his hand. His acting was flawless, and his skilful manipulation of people more so. Now no sound ever left him and the room felt larger than it had been just days ago.

He sat down heavily on a chair, feeling a sense of déjà vu as he did so. Hadn't he done exactly that when Shizuo had come over?

When he had started treating his friends, he had taken it in stride. It was good practice, and a chance to observe their supernatural bodies close up. (Izaya was included in this, simply because he had the ability to withstand anything Shizuo threw at him, and that was a lot of heavy stuff.) He never thought he'd have to care for one of them like this, despite the fact that they claimed to hate and want to kill one another. The dynamic between the two of them was indescribable. Sure they detested each other, but there was a grudging sort of respect as well. It was as if they knew where to draw the line with the other. For all it was worth, Shizuo never tried to catch the informant off guard when he was sleeping, even though he knew where he lived, and Izaya didn't involve Kasuka, nor did he ever try to shoot the debt collector. Shinra was positive that the raven knew Shizuo had been gravely injured by a gun before.

Despite this, he doubted Shizuo would visit again. The blond had enough on his hands. A period of relative peace was what he needed and there was no point coming to the doctor's apartment when he knew there was not one, but four Izayas inhabiting it.

Inattentively, he stared out the window. The apartment was silent now, the only sound the heart monitor hooked up to his friend.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

* * *

**If anyone's OOC, please tell me. I don't know much about the actual storyline. Oh dear what is this new chapter upload thing? I haven't done anything on here for years and I don't know how the new one works. Why does Chapter 1 have a 'life' of 87 days? Is it going to be deleted if I don't do something? Help someone?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Natsume Yuujinchou lover: Thank you! Izaya's personalities are: Roppi, Hibiya, Psyche and Sakuraya. These four are the fandom's most common ones and they are made from the pictures of Izaya in different clothing on actual merchandise. RukawaGF has an explanation of them on her profile. No these four are the only ones I will use. There are some others by the fandom, but I don't know them very well.**

**bitter-cAnDy-sweet: Thank you! I'm always worried I proceed too quickly with stories, so I'm glad you like it. **

**anon azure, sasunaru22fy: Thank you!**

**Thanks for the feedback on the chapter life, guys!**

* * *

Poor Shinra. He was aware that the doctor was trying to analyse how Izaya's brain ticked based on the actions of his copies. What Shinra didn't know was that to do so would mean he would have to look deeply into every interaction.

Even the sleeping habits of his personas told a story. Sakuraya was separated from Roppi by Hibiya. His kinder side was split from his crueller side by his responsible side. His crueller side was supported by his childish side. If you looked into that, it summed up Izaya rather well. From right to left, you could see the layers of his masks, finishing with no masks.

Psyche covered Roppi when Izaya was smiling and manipulating people. Hibiya's responsibility explained why Roppi was existed in the first place and Sakuraya was Izaya when he wore no masks.

Together they made up the development of informant throughout his life.

A small source of light in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to keep it in full view as it circled slowly, and then it stopped in front of him. The light expanded sidewards and upwards until a silhouette of a slender male could be seen. The light dissipated and it was like he was staring into a mirror.

While he had not seen the physical forms of his parts, he knew immediately that Psyche was standing before him. Call it intuition or whatever. There was also the chance that he had unconsciously made Psyche when he was torn between who he was and who he was forced to be, and so seeing the other was familiar to him already. It was laughable how everyone thought he was always so sure of himself when he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't confused. His look-alike smiled widely.

"Hello, Iza-chan!" The delighted sparkle in his eyes was reminiscent of a childish innocence Izaya had lost years ago.

"Psyche, why are you here?" He didn't abhor the idea of being visited by himself, but he didn't love it either. In fact, he had no idea what Psyche was doing here and it was kind of worrying. Usually holding unpredictable conversations with oneself symbolised a need for extensive mental treatment involving restricting upper garments and white, well-cushioned interior design.

"I'm sleeping, so I came to see you. You don't look very good though. You being the physical you- not this you. This you looks fine!" Rose petal eyes seemed almost sad as he reached out and trailed pale fingers down Izaya's lax arm. Stopping briefly at his wrist, they gave a gentle squeeze to the informant's hand before letting go.

"Alright, just stop saying 'you'." While Izaya normally avoided physical contact, he allowed this, perhaps because it was himself and there was no danger to his person.

"What have you been doing? It's so dark here!" In truth, it wasn't so dark anymore. The white of his clothing made the internal glow he emitted shine brighter and his optimistic attitude made the never-ending space seem smaller. This revelation in mind, Psyche's presence was quite welcome.

"I'm in a coma, Psyche. What else would I be doing?" Feigning exasperation, Izaya crossed his arms, because really, he was in a place of perpetual night where space had no meaning. What was there to do? That better be a rare and momentary relapse in analytical processes, or he was going to lose some face here.

"Well you can do stuff here right?"In contrast, Psyche spread his arms. The different body language spoke volumes. Izaya was closed and Psyche was open.

He snorted. "Yes I can make all sorts of imaginary friends, each more pleasant than the sort of company I frequented, and we have truly inspiring... sing-a-longs..."

"Haha, you sound like Roppi-chan!" Yes, he supposed he did. Roppi had dominated him from the moment he had agreed to become an information broker. Sarcasm and cynicism were his forte and he never failed to deliver suitably scorching remarks.

"Old habits die hard." A nonchalant shrug punctuated the well-known verbatim.

"I will keep you company for a while then!"

"My lucky day."

"Hey, don't be like that!" The magenta-eyed raven sat cross legged on the solid darkness that passed for a floor in his subconscious domain. "I know Iza-chan too. After all, I'm a part of him right? And I know even he gets lonely sometimes."

"Doesn't everyone?" Izaya sighed and sat down across from the other male.

Psyche tilted his head and thought about it. "'The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.' You may be rich in many things, Iza-chan, but you don't have a wealth of supporters."

"Mother Teresa." Izaya nodded. "Fame always brings loneliness. Success is as ice cold and lonely as the North Pole.'"

"Vicki Baum." Psyche grinned. "' Fame must have enemies, as light must have gnats.'"

"Victor Hugo." Despite his contemplative mood, he felt his lips quirk. He opened his mouth so respond, but Psyche held up his hand.

"Let me."

Izaya frowned slightly, not liking being cut off. Maybe it had something to do with his desire to control his life, or maybe it was just his inherent nature- he didn't know. It's not like he had ever had the time to discern between the two, having had his control taken away and his 'inherent' nature messed up for him before this nightmare happened. His eyes locked with Psyche's but the other's held no demeaning intentions. Only sad understanding was offered, something he had not had the opportunity to see. Those who were undeserving of pity never found sympathy. Expecting to receive it was pure hypocrisy. He let his gaze wander away, unprepared to meet compassion he had no experience with.

Taking this as an invitation to continue, Psyche said softly, "and 'He who lives by fighting with an enemy has an interest in the preservation of the enemy's life.'"

Izaya's frown deepened. "Friedrich Nietzsche."

"Am I right?"

"No."

"You sound like Roppi-chan again."

"Yes, I suppose he would often give you curt answers. Did you know they signal a preference for quiet?"

"I meant the lies."

"Ah yes, the mask would know the face, wouldn't it?"

"You're running away."

"'A coward is one who in a perilous emergency thinks with his legs.'" He said wryly.

"Ambrose Bierce." Psyche's eyes softened at his admission. "'Waiting for someone you love is never easy, especially when he's not aware that you're waiting.'"

"Who is that by?" The informant raised his eyes back to his mirror-image's face. It pained him to even think about the meaning of those words, so he pushed it from his mind. After all, he had already admitted to being a coward and running a bit farther did little to the great distance he had already covered.

"Internet." Psyche shrugged.

Izaya snorted. "I feel somewhat offended that you would regale me with quotes from hormonal teenage girls in self-important angst."

That made the other male laugh and Izaya felt his irritation fade.

"How badly have I been hurt?" Izaya didn't like breaking the lighter mood, but he had to know.

His question sobered the normally happy male. "Badly enough. That your injuries have put you in a coma should tell you something." He sighed.

"I know that much. Do you have any details?" His brow furrowed. He could only think of his sisters in this. Thinking of the pain they would feel made his heart ache.

"ShinShin says you'll be out for at least a month. You have some broken ribs, a broken arm, some other smaller breaks and fractures, a multitude of bruising- it makes you look like you were run over by a stampede of horses."

"Thanks." He rolled his eyes at the unnecessary remark. His inner self cringed a bit at the thought of such damage. Vanity made it sting all the more, but he brushed it off. Up until now, he wasn't aware he had any regard for the aesthetics of his body, even if he tried to be healthy. Weird.

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry at all. "And you also have a slashes across your wrists."

"Shinra's going to know." Izaya said. Sub-consciously, he looked down at his unblemished skin, glowing with the strange white light emanating from his body.

"Yes, he will." He agreed. "ShinShin suspects you were depressed."

"Not depressed, Psyche, but tired and guilty."

"Tired?"

"Tired of pretending."

"Me too."

They sat in camaraderie for a while. Izaya didn't have any perception of time without his alternates. Because Psyche was asleep, it was probably night time. He could feel the others sleeping as well, so it wasn't just a nap. After some time, he felt Hibiya get up and talk to Shinra. Asking him about loneliness.

He sniffed. Was that brought on by his previous musings on puppets and puppeteers? Or perhaps it was brought on by his and Psyche's conversation? Whatever the case, he had left Shinra with some clues. If Hibiya came into his domain, he would have to tell him off. The while point of allowing only certain parts to leave when he was cut was so that others wouldn't find out.

As it often did, time passed quickly in unconsciousness and Psyche began to fade into the blackness. "Hibi-tan is calling us. It's time to wake up!" Izaya was gifted with a bright smile. "I'll see you later, Iza-chan!"

"May later never come." The harsh words were softened by a smirk.

"So mean!" He pouted, and then was gone. Plunging Izaya into darkness again. He felt his alternates being roused and starting to move.

Sakuraya mentioned his family. His sisters would be so upset. The thought was distressing and he shifted uncomfortably. At least it was Sakuraya and Hibiya breaking the news. Like Roppi had said, they wouldn't have wanted to see him- he represented the side of Izaya they disliked.

It was reassuring that his parts were considerate of his position in that they wouldn't go out conspicuously. There would be some mess of rumours and conspiracy theories to clean up if they hadn't. And he shuddered to think of the theories Erika would concoct.

As Hibiya and Sakuraya made their sneaky way to his old home, he closed his eyes to sense what they were doing. (Although it didn't really matter if he closed his eyes or not, since it was all black either way.)

He felt their pain and his own at seeing his sisters in devastation. His heart wrenched when they cried, begging to see him. It broke when Hibiya denied them, to save them the additional agony and they slid to the floor, holding one another.

It brought tears to Sakuraya's eyes, but his, like Hibiya's, were dry. Many years of hardship and responsibility toughened them and built walls so that he wouldn't have to feel; however, Hibiya's face betrayed his sadness. Izaya's didn't. He had the extra barriers in place- probably from Roppi- and he remained devoid of emotion. It didn't matter if he did show them now, but like he said, old habits die hard.

It was like he had somehow placed blocks on an emotional nervous system. That was how it was for most occasions, except when his family was involved. Even if he didn't show it, he felt it deeply.

Izaya wanted to wake up, but at the same time he didn't. He wanted to wake and heal and be there for his sisters so he could stop causing them so much pain. But he was afraid to face the world. When he was awake, he was forced to inflict suffering on people, lest the twins be harmed.

But Orihara Izaya didn't give up. A coward he may be, but when he was determined, he wouldn't stop short of anything. His desire to wake won over his fear. There was nothing he could do about that for now, but when the time came, he would sink in his claws and not let go.

* * *

It was no surprise when Celty returned to find the doctor not at home. She had come back early, and he had mentioned he had to make a house-call. She set her helmet on the small, wooden table next to the door and crossed the living room in search of Izaya's alternates.

The kitchen was empty, but the pot of spaghetti sauce from the day before reminded her of Sakuraya. It also reminded her of what a neat-freak Izaya was, as the room was immaculately clean. Maybe she could ask Sakuraya to teach her how to cook? Shinra had greatly enjoyed the pasta.

As she was inspecting the stove, something warm bowled into her from behind. Her immediate reaction was to pull her scythe from her shadows, but the sight of white fur made her stop.

"Hi, Celty-chan! You're back early!" Psyche stepped away from her to give her some room, taking his arms from her waist.

That was odd, but not completely uncomfortable. Even though the alternates displayed different personalities from the informant, it was still bizarre to be given affection from them. She was expecting Roppi to follow Psyche, but the other raven was nowhere in sight. The two were never apart.

Yes, the delivery went without a hitch. The courier paused. Where is Roppi?

"Roppi-chan is in our bedroom." She waited for an explanation, but it didn't come. He rocked on his heels, bobbing in time to the music from his headphones, unconcerned.

Is he alright? The two of you are always together.

"He's fine."

The short answers were starting to make her suspicious. Psyche was usually quite the chatterbox. If she could have shown it, she would have been frowning as she made her way to the bedroom. Despite her worries, Psyche did nothing to stop her, humming as he trailed behind. The door was slightly ajar as she approached, and she pushed it gently as if she was expecting Roppi to be leaning against it.

What lay beyond the doorway astonished her. The room was trashed. Any object made of fabric was torn or cut cleanly, like someone had taken to them with a knife and breakable ones were smashed, likely thrown against the wall from the way the fragments were scattered. There was a hole in the wall, the plaster blown inwards as if someone had attacked it with an implement, and any furniture that was smaller than the bed was overturned. But no Roppi.

Her concern mounted and she picked her way through the debris to the bathroom en suite, apprehension making her progress slow. While she had known there was probably going to be more destruction, she was still surprised when she found Roppi sitting in the broken remains of the mirror on the bathroom floor. He stared blankly into the distance, but when Celty tapped his shoulder lightly, he whipped around.

His eyes wild, he glared at her, his blood red eyes making it more effective. Then, noticing the reflective shards scattered around him, he grew furious. With a snarl, he picked up the largest shard, indifferent to the way it cut deeply into his hand, and hurled it with as much force as he could muster at the far wall.

If she could have, she would have winced at the way it smashed loudly and flung smaller pieces across the tiles.

"See? I told you he's fine." She turned quickly at Psyche's voice.

The raven was still swaying to the music only he could hear. She didn't fail to notice how he deliberately put himself between her and Roppi, the silly grin on his face never fading.

He's not fine! He's bleeding and he should get help.  The dullahan flashed the message at the slim male before speeding out the door to fetch the medical kit. She wasn't a doctor, but Shinra wasn't here and the high-pitched crashing coming from the bathroom told her Roppi wasn't done.

"But he's fine. What are you doing, Celty-chan?" Upon her return, Psyche inclined his head questioningly, and she realised he was genuinely confused. Behind him, Roppi was violently throwing the pieces at the glass still attached to the wall, causing splinters to fly everywhere. Psyche was still apathetic to it, however, and he casually brushed the glass dust from his shoulders.

How can he be fine? There's clearly something wrong! Worried for Roppi's safety, she tried to move around his animated counterpart, only to be blocked with every try. Her panic escalated when she caught a glimpse of Roppi's hands. The normally ivory skin was dripping heavily with blood and every sharp movement splattered droplets of red on the walls and floor. We need to help him before he really hurts himself! At this point, she was on the verge of pulling her shadows on them.

"It's too late for that." Psyche's smile became sad, but he obliged this time. He took the medical kit from her and pushed her away. "You should go. He won't let you near him anyway. I'll take care of it."

She backed off, but only as far as the doorway, determined to see him treated. True to his word, Psyche pulled out antiseptic and bandages.

"Roppi-chan. It's time to stop now."

He was ignored.

"Roppi-chan."

Still no response.

"Roppi-chaaaaan, don't make me call someone!" He shook the other's shoulder, but was easily brushed off.

"Hachimenroppi." Psyche reprimanded and his eyes darkened until they became red. During this rebuke, Celty could have sworn she saw Izaya. "Stop this now." He commanded, and Psyche's (Izaya's?) authoritative aura made the other stop.

"это больно..." (It hurts.) Roppi whispered and he wasn't referring to his wounds. "Я не хочу делать этого больше." (I don't want to do this anymore.) He stared down at the thick blood lazily running down his fingers and opened and closed his hands like he was trying to catch it.

"Я знаю." (I know.) Psyche's body crouched down next to Roppi and began to clean the gashes. Scarlet eyes looked at her expectantly and it took her a moment to realise she was meant to leave. After a minute's hesitation, she left the room.

But the sight of the cuts across Roppi's wrists reminded her of Izaya's. She wasn't a doctor, but she was certain that when a person breaks mirrors, it signifies self-loathing. The destruction left in his wake only proved that he was quite disturbed. It didn't explain Psyche's odd behaviour during their exchanges though. _Unless Psyche is his mask._ The realisation hit her hard. _He always says he's fine. Izaya always acts and never shows his inner feelings. He usually smiles to cover up things, like Psyche does for Roppi..._

She sat down on a couch, waiting for Shinra to return, her mind backpedalling. _So all this time, Izaya's been in pain? Roppi is like his cruel side when he manipulates people and Psyche is his mask... Then what do Hibiya and Sakuraya represent?_ Shadow encased fingers fiddled with the seams of a cushion. She needed Shinra here. Now. There was so much she needed to tell him and discuss with him.

A sound snapped her out of her thoughts. After a few minutes, Psyche emerged from their shared bedroom, his eyes the colour of dawn again. He spared her a glance, and said, "I'll do the cleaning up! Don't go inside yet. Roppi-chan's still a bit under the weather." He bustled around the apartment, probably changing the linens and arranging the room neatly.

Under the weather? That was an under-statement. _Is this Izaya's way? To downplay everything?_ She tried to recall all the times Izaya had claimed to be fine, or said something self-deprecating that she had taken as mocking. Maybe all those times he had really meant the things he said about himself. Besides, she had a feeling Izaya rarely lied, if never. He was an informant who dealt in the truth and information. No matter what other people said, he usually twisted the truth and left bits out, but he didn't lie. It therefore stood to reason that any comment he made outright that was opinionated must have held some truth. The hard part was deciphering which was which.

Psyche had gone into the room again, but he hadn't come out for a while. The clock said it had been an hour since she had left the bedroom. She must have been thinking for a while. Curious, she rose to check up on them, ditching the cushion where she had been sitting.

Peeking around the door, she could see Roppi lying on the bed on his side, his torso rising and falling evenly with his breathing. His head was nestled on Psyche's lap, who hummed to the tune playing through his pink headphones.

The room was fairly clean, the linens changed and the furniture righted. If she didn't know any better, she would have said nothing had happened, but the currently unfixable hole in the wall was evidence of the mental breakdown Roppi had experienced before she had arrived.

"We'll pay for it." Her supernatural senses allowed her to hear the barely audible words. As quietly as possible, she pushed the door open; glad it was the front door that squeaked and not this one. "We know how to access Iza-chan's bank accounts, so we'll pay for everything." Psyche murmured, and his soft voice was unusual coming from the often loud male.

Okay. Is Roppi alright now? She typed her response and held it up for him to see.

"He was always alright, Celty-chan." Another smile was sent her way.

She hesitated, before deciding to ask what was on her mind. Before, your eyes changed colour. Was that you?

"No, that was Iza-chan. I told him I couldn't control Roppi-chan, so he came through me to command him."

And he can do that whenever he wants?

"Only when it's necessary." Psyche explained and he ran his fingers through his mirror-image's dark hair. Roppi shifted, but didn't wake.

Celty didn't know what to make of this. Izaya could manifest himself in his alternates, when it was necessary. What constituted a 'necessary' situation? There was so much she wanted to ask. The whole circumstance was incredulous, and a lot of things didn't make sense. She figured now was the best time to ask anything, since Psyche was the most talkative out of all of them, and Roppi often prevented anything important being said about Izaya's condition. But she figured asking about Roppi's self-destructive outburst wouldn't yield any results, since Psyche had denied any problems.

How much do you know about Izaya?

"I know what he did, where he's been, what he feels... He hasn't allowed half of his memories to come with us though. So I know everything until high school, in terms of experiences at least. I have all his other knowledge." He shrugged.

Can you tell me what happened to him?

"What's there to know? If you're talking about his current situation, then I can't tell you. Iza-chan also doesn't want me to say, so you're out of luck!" He closed his eyes and hummed softly, indicating the end of the conversation.

Feeling awkward, she exited the bedroom and turned the TV on. Various genres were being aired, and she flipped through the channels, only stopping when she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. Immediately, she ditched the remote on the couch and rushed to the door.

"I'm home, my beautiful Celty! It gladdens my heart that you would hurry to greet me! Don't I get a welcome back kiss?" He held out his arms to the headless courier, but she was busy typing.

Roppi went berserk earlier and destroyed the guest room. That made him stop.

"What? Are you okay?" Concerned, he looked her up and down, an action that would, in a different context, have her punching him. He breathed a sigh of relief, when it became obvious she wasn't harmed.

I'm fine, but Roppi injured himself on the glass. I think he punched the wall and the mirror, and he was throwing the glass at the walls. Psyche patched him up and cleaned the room. They're resting now.

"I should check his wounds anyway. As ungodly smart as Izaya is, I don't think he did extensive medical research." He straightened his glasses and put down his suitcase.

There's something else...

"What is it?"

When Roppi was throwing glass, Psyche couldn't get him to stop. His eyes changed... I talked to Psyche and he said it was necessary, so Izaya manifested himself in Psyche's body and ordered Roppi to stop. Celty held up her hand to signify that she wasn't done and resumed typing on her PDA. Psyche kept telling me that Roppi was fine, even as he was trashing the place. I thought that maybe it showed how Psyche is Roppi's mask when he's smiling and doing bad things.

"That is possible." Shinra looked thoughtful. "Does that mean we could talk to Izaya via one of his alternates?"

No, he said only when it was necessary. He didn't specify anything more than that. I tried asking him about Izaya, but he said Izaya didn't want him to say anything.

"Of course he would. Well, I'd better check on them." He nodded gravely, and headed into the guest room, the door clicking shut after.

* * *

**I was pretty happy with the Psyche talking to Izaya scene. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Guest: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoy it ^w^ I do want to continue this for as long as I can. For me this is already a really long fic, since my last one was 600 words or something, haha! (Which I deleted because it was really bad!)**

**Tabi Caracu: Wow thank you so much! Your comment made me grin ****creepily**** from ear to ear! Hmm well I didn't plan on Shizuo splitting into his personalities, actually. But now that you mention it... Still, I don't think I can put that in until after Izaya wakes up and... sticks back together? Is that how you would put it?**

**sasunaru22fy: Thanks for reviewing again! *bows* Don't worry, there's a little bit of Shizuo in this chapter! To be honest, I don't really know how to portray Shizuo. I have a better understanding of Izaya, so I probably won't be writing from his POV much.**

**XandyPants: Thank you! I was hoping I could write convincingly, so your comment makes me happy! I hope I can live up to those expectations, though. . **

**Mtsr: Ahaha is that a keyboard smash? Wow I'm glad I could have that effect!**

**bitter- cAnDy-sweet: Wow such a long and thoughtful review! Thank you very much Q.Q You made me dance around the house just now! xD I'm so happy- no, I'm ecstatic you enjoy it! Such high praise owo I didn't think I ****_had_**** writing skills. **

**Soi Kusa: Thank you so much! I hope you find it more interesting as time goes on! **

* * *

This time, when light coalesced into a silhouette his height and stature, Izaya was fully prepared. Expression unreadable, he merely watched as features identical to his became clear and equally crimson eyes focused on his face. Even before he could see the colours, he knew who it was. Roppi was the only one asleep right now anyway.

"I'm sorry." Bizarre as it was to hear himself apologising, to well... himself... a lot of things were strange nowadays, so they could almost be called ordinary.

"You made the same mistake as me. To fault you for that is to call myself out." Izaya shook his head. "Besides, the pain you inflicted upon yourself was refreshing. Perhaps I should be thanking you instead. Ah, but it seems we don't learn from our mistakes, do we? The whole point is to not get caught red-handed."

"Well my hands were certainly red when Celty caught me." Roppi remarked dryly. "I didn't, and Psyche didn't tell her much. We're keeping stuff from her, but at the rate we're going, I don't know how much longer we can do this for. They're going to know."

"Yes, that is a problem..." Izaya frowned, his head reflexively dipping downwards in thought. It would hardly be ideal if anyone outside of himself found out. Shiki already suspected something, but thankfully he strictly adhered to their business terms and didn't pry too much. Still, the odd personal remark from the yakuza was a little warming, if not telling that he needed to restore his barriers. At least he could rest assured the taciturn man wouldn't interfere unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. (Granted that was actually rather concerning, since the older male had a soft spot for him, for some reason he couldn't discern, and interference was quite probable.) On more than one occasion his contractor had helped him, indirectly of course, but the informant was always able to trace his aid back to its source. He would have to find some way to thank him in the future.

"You need to wake up." Roppi put his hands on his slim hips.

"I know." He continued staring at the non-existent floor, half his mind on his recent brooding, the other on their conversation. Not that it mattered. He could easily focus only a portion of his mind on different things at the same time and still be more efficient than anyone else.

"You were very lucky you didn't permanently injure yourself."

"I know. You can stop stating the obvious, Roppi. It doesn't suit you and it doesn't do either of us any good when we both share the same knowledge." The calmer male retorted. He supposed that wasn't entirely true, since he had no idea what Psyche was going to say when he visited, but this was common sense. Obviously if you jump off a building, you're lucky to walk away with only some broken bones. Geez, as if he didn't know that.

"Can we help?"

"That, I don't know." He turned away, not wanting to meet the questions reflected in Roppi's eyes that were no doubt on display in his. "I've noticed that the place is brighter since Psyche came, and it wasn't just his visit. Maybe I'm drawing strength from you four, seeing as it is brighter still now that you're here. Perhaps I just need you to see me, and I can wake up."

"I'll pass it on," he nodded and looked around, although there wasn't much to see. "Nice place you have here. It's so beautifully devoid of humans." He straightened his parka around his shoulders, but Izaya saw little difference- the fur coat was constantly slipping off. Why was that anyway? Analysing the way his personas wore their expressive garments would indicate something about himself. When he thought about it, perhaps it was because Roppi cared little for his own wellbeing, having been the part that committed all those crimes. He paid little attention to himself, and represented the half that welcomed abuse to his person.

"You don't like humans, Roppi?" An eyebrow arched elegantly.

"I hate them."

"Is that how I feel? Hmm, I never considered that." Izaya hummed thoughtfully. "I love my humans."

"That's because to consider it would also upturn your emotions, and you've been avoiding that." Roppi responded flatly, and began to circle Izaya, still speaking. "How do you love the people who shun you?"

At first, Izaya turned his head to keep Roppi in view, but as he continued, he just looked down at the darkness below that threatened to give way at any moment. "Well Roppi, I don't judge humans by the side they show me. That's only a percentage of the whole person, usually the negative part. Think objectively- that's what my name refers to, ne? Watching over all people, that is. As humans have the ability for great cruelty, so are they able to perform acts of great kindness. It's amusing."

"Perhaps you love what you see in others because there are things you can't see in yourself," Roppi mocked coldly as he stopped once he was facing his look-alike's back. "We are human too, are we not?"

"I don't think you count."

"Irrelevant."

"True."

Izaya kept his mouth shut, comfortable with not saying anything for the next while. The same could have been said for Roppi, who didn't break the silence either. That was fine. He didn't feel like talking anymore, and Roppi wasn't chatty like Psyche.

When he contemplated Roppi's words, he found himself shying away from certain thoughts. Just like the other male said, he was avoiding thinking too hard on some topics, because he knew he wouldn't like the answers. Running away again? Hah... He was too used to fleeing.

"Roppi." He did a 180, stating the other raven's name to get his attention. "The reason why you hate humans... Is it the same as mine for loving them?"

"Yes." In Roppi's eyes he could see scorn and contempt burning angrily.

"I see..." That would be it then. He didn't lie, only bent the truth to his needs, that is, unless he was forced to. Roppi's next words caught him off guard.

"You don't want Shizuo to die. He reminds of you of how monstrous you are."

He recovered quickly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You're just running away." Roppi shifted irritably.

"I always run away from the brute. That's the natural order of things, ne?" Izaya's sly smile was back in place. He had momentarily dropped his mask when Roppi had so abruptly brought up the protozoan, and in _that_ way, but it was easier to hide behind a fake smile than answer him truthfully.

"You run from everything, not just that monster." Roppi hissed. "It's why you never get anywhere, you always get jerked around, and you deal with the consequences after. You're a _coward_, Izaya, and this whole mess is _your fault._ You can't blame anyone else for this. Yes, _it_ may be the one forcing you, but you're the powerless one who doesn't try to break free!"

"You're _its_ creation. Why should I bother listening to you?" He snorted. "Besides, things are never as easy as come and go. Humans are never that simple, hm?"

"No, I'm _your _creation. You just made me with the mold it gave you." His bristling look-alike spat. "And now I'm here to stay. You can't get rid of me, can you? Even if I disappear, I'll always be in your head."

"I have a tumour and thy name is Roppi." Izaya rolled his eyes.

The other male ignored him. "You've become pretty obedient now, haven't you? Would you stab Shizuo to death if it told you to?"

"How sad. You're pretty slow for one of mine. I've been trying to stab him to death for years. The barbarian just doesn't die." He gave Roppi a self-effacing smile and a helpless shrug. "It wouldn't really change anything if it did."

Izaya merely raised an eyebrow when Roppi threw his head back and laughed. "My mind is laughing at me. I think I need help." Izaya said sarcastically. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. Roppi was always present in his head, whispering poisonous, condescending words. It was just the first time he had been told them face to face.

"No matter what you spew, remember this: I'm the one in control here. Every waking moment, the dominating side of you is me. You can't escape; you can't stop me. Your _life_ is _mine._ Until the day you get killed by one of the multitudes of people who despise the very mention of your name, you will be unable to make anyone happy. All you do is cause grief to everyone. The _only_ time you can make anyone happy is when you die."

"Get out." He said calmly.

"Running away again?"

"Get. Out."

"You're only proving my point!" This prompted another round of laughter.

"Finished yet?" Izaya was stoic.

"The only one who is finished is you." Roppi smirked maliciously. "You are human, Izaya. A weak, vulnerable human. And we _hate_ humans." He faded away into the shadows as he woke up.

_And Celty said I wasn't bipolar._ _Roppi disproves that, doesn't he?_

It felt lighter in his domain, but he didn't know if it was because Roppi had given him energy or because his oppressive presence was gone. It was no longer pitch black- more like a dirty smoke grey, but it felt more suffocating than when it was utterly dark. Like there was nowhere to hide. If he were to describe it, he would say it was the colour of despair and self-loathing.

He wished it was completely black. Then he wouldn't have to see himself.

* * *

Sakuraya made his way to Izaya's apartment, making sure to keep to the back alleyways. He wasn't confident he'd be ready if someone the informant knew was to call on him, so he took the long way around. Scaling buildings with ease, despite his rather restricting garments, he made use of the spectacular view of the city. Stopping on one of the rooftops, he balanced on the edge of the building and looked down. Ikebukuro sprawled before him, its inhabitants mere pixels of the entire image, the multicoloured mass of people mixing and milling about below like one giant amoeba. He imagined being one of them, like Izaya had been, and knowing there was not a single person he could pass and feel any amount of safety in doing so. What a sad life the informant had lived.

The wind was gusting energetically, blowing his long sleeves around him and his hair in his face. For a moment, he considered what it must have been like to stand atop a building and want to meet his end below. He knew for a fact that it was a thought that had crossed Izaya's mind numerous times, although the informant had never made good on his imagination. Not until recently at least, and that was more a mistake than an actual suicide attempt. If Izaya was going to kill himself, which was highly unlikely, he would have made sure he had done it properly the first time.

Lingering on the edge, he allowed the wind to pull him whichever way it wished. As high up as he was, it took a bit of resistance to not slip and fall to his death. Time seemed to pass quickly, and he soon lost track of how long he had been balancing on the edge. The slam of the door against a hard surface made him whirl around gracefully, raising a silk sleeve to his mouth in surprise when he was met with the sight of Shizuo.

"What the fuck, flea... I told you to stay out of Ikebukuro!" The blond bristled with rage and stormed over to Sakuraya. Apparently, he had forgotten Izaya was in a coma, and it was an instant reaction for him to come and threaten him. A knee-jerk response, he supposed, to someone who looked like his enemy. On that thought, he raked through his memory for anything on the angry man before him, but came up blank. _Ah so Izaya kept everything on him, at least from me._

"Shizuo-san? What are you doing up here?" The respectful use of his name made him realise who he was talking to. Just like an animal, he growled and shook his head.

"Hell if I know anymore..." Long fingers reached into his pocket to tug out a box of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it, inhaling the nicotine deeply. The normally lazy tendrils of smoke turned into whips, the wind dragging them away into the vast sky. Sakuraya followed them with his eyes and wondered how his name-sake had felt as torn as those wisps were. "What are you doing up here anyway?" Shizuo's gruff voice reminded him that he had company.

"I was going to fetch Izaya's cell for him for when he wakes, but I stopped to enjoy the view." Sakuraya sat calmly on the railing around the edge of the building.

"Huh. I didn't think the flea was one to take it slow. Seems like he-you were always flying around everywhere. Lives to wreck, places to go, assholes to see, shit to find. That kind of thing."

"Hmm well... Izaya did spend a lot of time just looking at the skyline, especially at night. The cityscape is breathtaking from high up." Sakuraya leaned into the gaping space behind him as he looked over his shoulder at the city sprawl. "And as for taking it slow... Well, there are a lot of things that everyone doesn't know. It's no surprise that you didn't think so."

"I do know the flea fairly well though."

"Really?" The gentle male switched his attention back to his companion. "I don't think anyone does." His gaze was sad.

"How much do I know then?" Shizuo flicked the end of the cancer stick over the side of the building, watching the burning embers' descent until his eyes could no longer focus that far. He should be pissed, hell, he should be furious. Having to spend any time or space with the louse had him fuming just a month ago. But this one... This one didn't piss him off.

"Ah... Maybe 30%? Not that you can allocate a percentage to that sort of thing. Comparatively, you know a lot, but as a proportion?" He shook his head.

"A question then."

"Go ahead, but it doesn't mean I'll answer you. It doesn't really mean you'd believe me either. You could never trust that 1%, ne?" It felt like another person was talking through him. Where had that last question come from? He didn't remember any such facts from before- it must have been Izaya, although that didn't make much sense. Sakuraya distinctly remembered Psyche commenting how Izaya could not reach the physical world through his personas unless it was necessary. Perhaps Psyche was lying.

"Why do you exist?"

"I don't think we have the time or inclination to go in that direction." Sakuraya's smile was teasing, but held no malice. There was a distinct and utter _lack_ of the mockery and condescension the debt collector often heard from the flea.

"I meant you, as a personality."

"Shouldn't my existence explain itself? I am a part of Izaya; that's why I exist." With feline grace, the kimono-clad male stood and spun around on the edge so that he was facing the blond. "But I understand. You're curious, ne?"

When he received no response, he took it as an invitation to continue. "Appearances are deceptive. 'Don't judge a book by its cover,' as the verbatim goes."

"Everything about you was deceptive." Shizuo snorted.

"I suppose you would be right about that." He smiled wryly. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, I really should get going. Hibiya expects me back in less than an hour." Sakuraya leapt to the rooftop of the nearby building, landing lightly on his feet.

"Don't misunderstand. I still hate you, flea."

He paused. "Of course." As lithe as the wind itself, Sakuraya made his way across rooftops and cables, never once looking back. Shizuo was an enigma, truly. He had to wonder what had happened between Izaya and Shizuo for them to be so hostile to each other- it was a real shame. As a part of Izaya, he could probably accurately guess the why. Jealousy brought out the worst in people, didn't it? True, Shizuo was a monster, but he had a close-knit circle of peers. That was something Izaya could never have.

Thankfully, he met no other obstacles on the rest of the way there or back. Hibiya was waiting for him when he returned. "One would have expected such a venture to be finished earlier."

"I was enjoying the view of the skyline and Shizuo-san came up to tell me off." Sakuraya looked faintly amused. "How did the meeting with Shiki-dono go?"

"Shiki-dono was understanding of Izaya's situation. We will not be expected to undertake further assignments; however his interest in our existence was piqued. I informed him I was unable to provide sufficient answers to quell his curiosity." Hibiya snapped the medical book he was reading shut. (Well Shinra, perhaps Izaya will have extensive medical research by the time he wakes. –From the end of Chapter 3.) "Shiki-dono questioned me as to whether everything was in order. I advised him that Izaya was stable and recovering, but that was not the answer he was seeking."

"Shiki-dono always did have a keener intuition on things than other people." Sakuraya sighed as he perched delicately on the edge of the couch. He nudged the cushions out of the way and gestured for Hibiya to sit on the couch. His honey-eyed counterpart held up a hand, palm outwards in refusal.

"I notified him that any further queries would be better forwarded straight to Izaya as we have limited knowledge. Either the excuse was accepted or relevant remarks withheld." Hibiya instead settled on the armrest, his back leaning against Sakuraya's shoulder. In response, the other raven pushed back, enough to sustain Hibiya's weight.

"Well, as long as Izaya isn't in any trouble it should be fine."He hummed.

"Negative- Izaya is always in some form of predicament, be it physical, emotional or financial." Hibiya frowned. He and Sakuraya had been discussing the informant's life up to where they knew it. What they had access to of his memories were riddled with problems so it was only reasonable to deduce the rest would reflect that. Lately, some of his other memories were leaking through however, and they were getting a bigger picture of what Izaya had done.

"That's his fault." Roppi cut in as he entered, Psyche close behind. "If he wasn't so weak, he wouldn't have that problem." He sat on the opposing couch, his arms and legs crossed. Psyche flopped down next to him, the violent movement making Roppi bounce slightly.

"Out of line..." Sakuraya murmured disapprovingly, his brow furrowing. The glass table separating them seemed a flimsy barrier.

"Wouldn't you know? You don't even belong in this _line_ of work. What use are you in the underground world?"

"One should never lose compassion."

"Maybe, but compassion gets taken advantage of in the underground! IzaIza learned that the hard way!"

"If you lose empathy for others, it makes others dislike you. That's a very lonely way to live."

"What's your point? We've lived without for so long; we don't need other people. They just backstab you in the end. And that wouldn't even matter, if it wasn't for you. Izaya doesn't need a conscience, he just needs to act. You just get in the way."

"It's still wrong- doing what we do. Imagine all the people we hurt. It's not something to be taken lightly. I'm the second oldest here, and I understand things better than you do, Roppi."

"Wrong or right- what difference does it make now? I can't even bring myself to care about them anymore! And oldest my ass! Well if you're going to go on that, then what do you say, Psyche?"

"We still have Mairu and Kururi! They'll always love us!"

"Perhaps, but it merely proves Sakuraya's point in that the girls hold aversion towards Roppi. At times it becomes difficult to contact them, especially if one suspects ill will directed at us."

"It doesn't matter if they hate me. I'm not here to be loved."

"One day someone will care for us, even you, Roppi."

"Bulllshit."

"Roppi, refrain from using such vulgar language. It does unmake you and does not as fluidly deliver a message."

"As if someone could love a monster like me."

"I do!"

"Thanks Psyche, but that doesn't really count. I believe they call that narcissism."

"It is possible, is it not? After all, we can love. And if we are monsters who can love, then maybe there is someone who could love us."

"Hah, you're deluding yourself if you think we're _worthy_ of being so much as even _liked._ We're the kind of people you should avoid; the kind that will take your money as soon as ransack your life; the kind that will do it while laughing. We are _scum_."

"We are only what we believe we are."

"That belongs on a Hallmark card. Does that make you a saint then?"

"I'm not saying I am."

"You only wish! You'd probably _send_ your stupid apology cards to all those people you screwed over. Useless gifts from useless people."

"Finish your tirade. Shooting childish spiels of arguments at one another do not benefit the situation. We will do as we see fit, whether we feel inclined to follow orders or whether there comes a time to dissent." Hibiya stood suddenly, but put a supporting hand on Sakuraya's side to prevent him from falling over. The others all looked up to him from their seated positions around the room. "Roppi, you have been verbally and physically abusing Sakuraya all week. You mentioned previously to Izaya that you were in control, but it would do you well to remember otherwise. Enough, understand?"

"Yes..." Roppi huffed and looked away, but did as he was told. Turning away from the others, he allowed his body to drop sideways; resting sprawled across Psyche's lap. "Ugh, just go away already."

Sakuraya acquiesced, fleeing the room noiselessly to cook dinner. Hibiya made his way around the table to stand over the cynical male, his cloak making a soft brushing sound as it dragged across the carpet. He reached down towards Roppi, his hand raking gently through tousled cobalt locks. "Roppi, while I realise you have been depressed this past few days, I would request that you cease taking it out on Sakuraya. Lashing out at others will only add to the heartache."

"Я ненавижу это. (I hate it.)" He mumbled quietly. "Я так устал. Я хочу, чтобы это закончилось. (I'm so tired. I want it to end.)"

"терпеть немного дольше. (Endure a little longer.)" The white and yellow clad male murmured. "мы будем делать то, что должно быть сделано. (We will do what must be done.)"

"да. (Yes.)"

Psyche tugged on Hibiya's sleeve and he met the other's gaze. There was an expectant, hopeful sort of look on the bubbly raven's face that reminded him of an overeager puppy. "Moi aussi! (Me too!)" Psyche chimed, and Hibiya raised his eyebrow at the spontaneous change in language. That was Psyche for you, always random and usually seeking attention.

"Tu dois t'occuper de Roppi, d'accord? (You have to look after Roppi, okay ?)" He complied with Psyche's look, and ruffled his hair as well. This time, Psyche resembled a cat more, arching and nudging his head into his look-a-like's hand. Hibiya's mouth quirked upwards slightly and he rubbed where he imagined cat ears would be. Psyche damn near purred.

"Bien sûr que je vais le faire! Mais, qu'est-ce que tu vas faire? " (Of course I will! But what will you do?)"

"Moi ? Je vais prier pour que les choses aillent mieux. (Me? I will pray that things get better.)" Hibiya straightened his gloves absently, retreating from the other two in favour of finding Sakuraya. He paused briefly when Psyche spoke again.

"Hein? Mais on ne croit pas en Dieu. (Huh? But we don't believe in God.)" He inclined his head.

"Je sais. (I know.)" Hibiya crossed slowly into the adjoining room, but his voice still carried in the small apartment. "Je n'ai jamais dit que je croyais que ça marcherait. (I never said that I thought it would work."

* * *

**I wasn't originally going to have so much of the alternates, but it seems you guys like to see them around, so I wrote another chapter! Right now, I have the storyline as the alternates disappearing soon though. We'll have to see. French is my second language, so it may not be very good... And the Russian is from Google Translate...**

**Oh and that part where they were all talking was to see whether you guys could tell who it was. If you were confused, then it means I'm not doing a very good job.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Tabi Caracu: I hope it's getting more interesting! I'm putting more effort into this than I ever have on something creative. I have a lot of ideas planned out, and a large chunk of later stuff. The hard part is filling in the middle to get there without skipping out on the details . Oh! Your idea on Shizuo splitting gave me an idea, although it's a bit different from yours. Plot bunny for the climax of the story owo Thanks for reviewing! ^^**

**Rai Rai Blue: Thanks! I'm sorry for making you wait .**

**sasunaru22fy: I'm working on it! It's just a bit hard to incorporate other characters since I haven't watched the anime. I'll try though.**

**keiko-uchiha, anime1hinata , Cloud's May Shade a Tear: Thanks!**

**Sheep-is-Cute: Wow! OP, I didn't think you looked at the meme for it anymore either! The other authors dropped it, I think- so disappointing Q.Q I've been trying to meet all the bonuses, and keep them in character. It's hard though =3= I changed the one about Namie a bit- so hopefully it's okay? Thanks for the feedback! The alts seem to be very popular o.o And I actually wasn't planning on keeping them around that long...**

**InsomniaticFrenchToast: Hmm well Tabi has given me an idea of how to work them in, but it will be a long while later, I'm afraid! I'm glad you like the alternates! I would do more interaction between Shizuo and them, but I actually don't know how to portray them and have them act around each other. **

**Guest: Thanks for the corrections! Just a question though- I thought you could use the 'futur simple' interchangeably with the 'futur proche'? And I intended Hibiya to be more formal, so even though it was really weird, he used 'vous' with Psyche instead of 'tu'. Does that still not fit? Thanks for the other feedback! =w=**

* * *

He didn't believe in God. To believe in God was to put your life in another person's hands, and that wasn't a feeling he was comfortable with. He'd only done that once, and that was out of necessity. But willingly? No. When Hibiya had said he would pray for things to get better, he had winced. Wow. Was he really that desperate? Seems like he'd come a long way. _Well of course I have. I was running the whole time, ne Roppi?_ He thought about what had happened today. His parts had been pretty active.

Still, Shizuo remained an anomaly, although he supposed the blond had been calm because it was Sakuraya he had met, and not the combination of Psyche and Roppi that he was used to.

Izaya cursed himself. Hurting himself like that was a poor judgement on his part and motivated largely by his overwhelming guilt. No one was meant to find out about his kinder self, or they might realise he was a lot softer than he let on. He hadn't lost it like that for years.

Hmm and of course Roppi would confront and argue with the others about his fear and failure. He had to agree with him though- monsters didn't live to be loved. Only his sisters cared for him, and that was because it was a sort of unconditional family love, like the love between parents and children. And although it had been hard to cope with the increased responsibility when he was little more than a child himself, he had enjoyed it. They didn't need their parents around, and it wasn't as if they were around _often_. Don't get him wrong, they were good people, but they didn't ever seem to have the time. In their absence, he raised his sisters as best as he could and did the housekeeping.

Despite the larger burden, he had worked hard at everything he tried, and easily became the top of his school. If there was a word to describe his capabilities, he figured that 'fast' would probably sum it up quite well. His mind was brilliant and his body agile. He could do anything he put his effort into, and reflecting on how his life played out, it was actually somewhat of a waste. (Granted, he never really tried his hand much at art, but he didn't really consider it important or useful.) He remembered at one point when he was younger, that he had a mind to go into criminal law or forensic psychology. That was impossible now.

His domain brightened and he was aware without really seeing that one of his alternates must have come to visit. It was a light grey now, and it reminded him of the twilight zone where there's enough light to see, but not enough to read. Or maybe fog.

"Roppi passed on the message. In order for your situation to improve, our presence here is required for at least one instance. Salutations, Izaya."

"Hibiya."

"Izaya."

"Don't start that." The ruby-eyed male sighed, but he was relieved to see him. Out of all of his split personalities, Hibiya was the one he related the best with. Because he was the responsible one. And unlike Sakuraya, he wouldn't be his conscience and make him feel guilty. He was logical, pragmatic and persevering. He endured.

"Your body has a remarkable ability to recover quickly. Most of the bruising has receded and fractures are almost cleanly healed. Lacerations have closed. Major breaks are mending."

Izaya nodded absently. At such close proximity, Hibiya could see his eyes staring distractedly into the dark space to his left, unblinking and unfocused.

"Under normal circumstances, such information would be paramount, yet your inattentiveness leads me to believe other, more significant issue are heavy on your mind." Hibiya said.

_Did he have to sound like a Zen master or something? _He let out a sharp exhale. "After obeying orders for so long, I've always wished to do things freely. And now that I must choose what my next move will be, I don't know what the best thing to do is. I just want someone to tell me so I can get my life back on track." Izaya levelled his gaze with Hibiya's golden one, holding his stare as if he was searching for the answers. And Hibiya knew he was. "Damnit Hibiya, tell me what to do!"

"You have grown so accustomed to submission that being exposed to liberation of choice leaves you floundering. However, in order to learn how to be independent, you must decide for yourself." Hibiya continued to watch Izaya, even when he turned away slightly, dropping his gaze, ashamed for his outburst. "I cannot give you advice. I only know as much as you permit me to access and you and I are essentially the same. I do not know what to do either." He admitted. "But I do know that dwelling on the past will not solve the present."

"I know that too, but it doesn't mean I can do much about it. You and I are aware that we will only be forced to continue those... deeds, when we gain consciousness again. There is no escaping it." Izaya cradled his head his hands, despair seeping in. He welcomed the feeling, even though he didn't really like it. Call him masochistic, but he only really felt like himself when he was suffering. It wasn't enough to feel numb.

"You have researched it before." Unlike with Sakuraya and Roppi, Hibiya didn't touch him. When the informant was fragile, he shunned any comfort. It was too alien, and although he wouldn't admit it, Izaya was scared by the thought of affection from anyone other than his sisters. And it would, oddly enough, be worse to be receiving it from Hibiya. After all, the informant craved misery and he loathed himself. Receiving affection from Hibiya would technically be from himself, and it would seem as if he was trying to alleviate his own pain. Which he didn't want. It was very telling however, that the alternates were affectionate with each other. After all, he only had himself for comfort.

"It knew. When I looked up its weaknesses, it realised what I was doing and told me if I even so much as tried it..." Izaya shook his head vehemently. "Besides, I haven't exactly seen the real life application. I don't know if it would be effective enough to warrant the risk."

"And there is no realistic way to test the theory..." Hibiya finished.

"Exactly. But if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that we must not involve anyone else." Izaya raised his head, his despair falling away in favour of determined action. If he could discuss the facts with himself, maybe they could come to something. Wallowing in dejection would help nothing._ It's time to step up. I need to wake up, one way or another, and when I do..._

Hibiya hummed in agreement. "One often deals with one's own problems, lest others be harmed attempting to aid." He kept his words ambiguous so that Izaya wouldn't know his real thoughts.

"That's what I thought." Izaya sighed.

_He needs help._ Hibiya thought as he watched the informant's brow furrow in deep contemplation. _But any conversation I hold becomes known to him. It stands to reason then, that I must be subtle and I must choose the right person. Ah yet the being I have in mind doesn't do subtle._ "I will be on my way. Perhaps when Sakuraya visits, you will be able to find an answer. Oft times, having varying opinions on a subject make it easier to solve."

Izaya snorted. "I know what Sakuraya will say and do. I doubt there'll be anything I don't expect." That wasn't entirely true. His parts had surprised him before.

"Until we become one again." Hibiya nodded to him, and faded from his realm.

_Soon._

* * *

"I am departing from the residence. Rectify your behaviour while I am absent." Hibiya said shortly to his look-alikes. "I will be out of the Kishitani residence for a number of days. Further notice will be given at a later date."

"Okay Hibi-chan!" Psyche latched onto Sakuraya's arm as they bade him goodbye. Roppi stood off to the side, but inclined his head to show that he had heard and acknowledged the statement. "We'll be good!"

Hibiya forsook the elevator in favour of the stairs to give him time to think. He knew what he had to do. Until now, he had not given any indication of his plans in case Izaya were to confront him somehow. But now that raven was actually carrying out his plan, it spelled trouble for him if Izaya were to take over his body and propel him away from his target. This needed to be done, whether his mental relation agreed or not. Isolated as Izaya's responsible half, he also understood that he required external assistance with his dilemma, even though he gave the impression that the responsibility was individual. When the informant had brought up telling no one, he had implied that he shared the same idea, but he hadn't explicitly said he did. _One often deals with one's own problems, lest others be harmed attempting to aid. _He could only hope Izaya would not interfere when he met with Shizuo. And that the blond would cooperate.

With a sort of sinking dread, he approached Ikebukuro. In preparation for his escapade, he had changed clothes to a more normal attire that would fit in- a light brown jacket over a white v-neck and black skinny jeans. To deter the blond from attacking him on sight, he kept the colour scheme, ignoring the few odd stares here and there. He was determined not to be kept by any of Izaya's other acquaintances, and had asked Sakuraya to pick up a few of the informant's switchblades when he went to his loft in advance. He had also taken his phone. Now he was ready.

Finding the debt-collector wouldn't be that hard. That would come when he had to convince the blond to help him. Bereft of the Roppi's jealousy unlike Izaya, he could reasonably see that the informant and the ex-bartender would make an extremely formidable team. (Read: unstoppable)

And maybe that would be enough. He certainly hoped so.

Seeing a mop of wheat-gold hair, he changed direction to slip through the crowd to him. When he was close enough to reach out and tug on his sleeve, he noticed how the crowd had thinned considerably. People gave Shizuo a rather wide berth, making it easier for him to call out.

"Shizuo-san."

The response of the crowd was to scatter and the mass exodus of the populace was enough for the blond to know who was calling his name. The only question was 'which one?' Doing a 180 confirmed who it was, and the blond couldn't help the reflexive clench of his fists at the face of his nemesis. "What do you want?" He replied stiffly.

"I would ask a truce. I am not here to engage in combat with you, in fact, I would humbly ask your aid, if you would." Hibiya looked into caramel eyes, an aura of calm confidence radiating from his being.

"And?" He took a puff of his cigarette, his irritation increasing. The only reason he hadn't tried pulverising the other male into next week was his underlying curiosity in the informant's fragments of personality.

"It is a little complicated. I would... ask to stay at your residence for a while." Hibiya shifted uncomfortably, unsure of the blond's next move. This was the dangerous part. He could be assaulted by heavy objects at any moment if his suggestion angered the other.

"Hah? What makes you think I want a flea in my apartment?" Dropping his cancer stick on the floor, he crushed it under his heel, turning and grinding it into the cement for good measure. A vein on his forehead twitched and Hibiya shuffled slightly.

"Please. I will fulfil any request, so long as it doesn't overburden Izaya." He watched the cigarette become an ashy stain on the sidewalk, feeling as if his confidence was under Shizuo's shoe as well.

The simple word made him pause. Izaya never said please, or thank you. He was a rude bastard like that. And he also said he could have a favour if he complied. Damn flea never liked owing anything to anyone. Both were surprises to him. Shizuo opened his mouth to reject him immediately, because damn, he didn't want anything more to do with the flea. But he closed it again. He _had_ wanted to find out something about the informant to get back at him. And now that he was dealing with only a part of Izaya, he didn't have to deal with all the other shit the informant threw at people. This half wasn't the manipulative retard he loathed, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad?

"Fine, but you have to obey any rules I set."

Hibiya bowed from the waist slightly, ducking his head in submission to indicate his agreement. "As you wish."

"You better not be planning anything flea, or I swear I'll skin you with a stop sign." Shizuo growled, and Hibiya was regaled with a painfully gruesome mental image.

"I would assure you that I have not scheming against you, but I doubt you would believe me."

"Damn right."

Hibiya sighed. He was going to have a rough time of this, but it would turn out alright. If it didn't, then he really didn't know what to do.

_Well Izaya, you did mention that you wanted me to make the decision for you... So deal with it._

* * *

Shizuo dumped the spare linens on the couch, not bothering to arrange it neatly. Damn flea could do it himself. Hibiya had brought a small duffle bag with necessities, such as his clothes, his toiletries and of course, Izaya's credit card. At least the flea could pay for his own expenses, because there was no way in fuck he was freeloading off the blond, especially when there was such a wealth disparity.

"Alright rules. Clean up after yourself, don't piss me off and don't mess with other people. If I hear you've gotten into any trouble around here, I'm going to kick you out, got it?"

_That goes without saying_. Hibiya thought dryly, but he remained polite. "I understand."

"Good." Shizuo trudged onto the small balcony to smoke, already feeling annoyed. He almost asked himself what the fuck he was doing for the thirteenth time, but decided to drop it tiredly. After twelve times, he didn't think he'd be coming up with a very good answer. He had agreed to allow the flea to stay in his apartment for god knows how long- damn it had he even _clarified_ how long the stupid louse was going to be here for? Maybe he needed to see Shinra, because hell, it seemed like he was going crazy.

Thankfully, the smaller male stayed out of his way for the most part. At times it looked as if Hibiya wanted to say something, but he usually left him alone. More than once Shizuo had come back to his apartment to find the raven cleaning, or reading. (What was he, a maid? Not that he really minded, because it meant he didn't have to do it, but really?) They ate meals at the same table, but mostly in silence and without eye contact. It was awkward and it left Shizuo with even less of an idea of _why._ Why was Hibiya here anyway? He said he wanted help, but there were never any requests for the blond to actually _do_ anything.

So one day, frustrated with the utter lack of understanding, he sat down on the other side of the couch and just stared at Hibiya. Taking in the look of mild surprise, he noted how the claret-eyed male shifted his position, hesitatingly putting his book on the side table and crossing his arms. Was he uneasy?

"Is something amiss?" The raven ventured cautiously.

"Nothing."

Hibiya's arms cinched slightly.

"Huh." That told Shizuo more than his words did.

Rolling his shoulders, he crossed the room to grab a change of clothes and hopped into the bathroom, leaving a barely smiling Hibiya behind.

_It begins._ Hibiya mused.

In the shower, Shizuo thought about their exchange. Calmer than he usually was around the flea, he had been more aware of the informant. He couldn't explain it well, but when the red haze of rage wasn't clouding his vision, it was easier to pick up on Hibiya's emotions. If he considered it deeply enough, he supposed it was probably because he instinctively and sub-consciously noticed the body language of the other. It was certainly different, being the observer for once.

Once he was finished, he towelled himself off roughly and dressed, throwing his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. Noticing its fullness, he made a mental note to do a load later. _I wonder if I could get the flea to do that too._ He mused. A month ago, he wouldn't even have entertained the thought, but 12 days and 8 home-cooked meals later, it seemed like a possibility. The flea _was_ imposing on his hospitality. Walking back to the living room, he could see Hibiya frowning and staring into space. His brow furrowed in deep concentration and he sat immobile, his book forgotten on the cushion beside.

"Oi."

No response.

"Flea."

Nothing.

"Flea." He tried again, but this time, he reached out and shook the smaller male's shoulder.

Whirling immediately, Hibiya's body spun to face him, his arms raised in a defensive stance. His eyes burned with a crimson flame that had the blond's fury peaking. "Damn it Hibiya, you're actually doing it." He hissed, his voice low and informal, unlike the courteous male he had been sharing a living space with. Shizuo raised a fist with a growl, and punched the other in the stomach. He watched in satisfaction as the slender body slammed into the wall and slid down slowly.

Hibiya blinked a few times, and then Izaya was gone. "I apologise for that, Shizuo-san. Izaya was upset to learn that I have been residing here." With a few deep breaths, Hibiya stood and smoothed down his clothing. "I thought I was in control, but it seems Izaya was more determined that I previously deduced."

"Gonna explain that slip up, flea? 'Cause you just pissed me off and that's grounds to chuck you out the window."

"Izaya can attempt to forcibly manifest himself through us; however, I have been declining his presence within my body. He is generally ruled by Roppi nowadays, and rejects any offer to help."

"Tch, fucked up louse."

"More than you know..." Hibiya conceded quietly and walked over to the window. "Are you throwing me out now?" Grimly amused, he surveyed the outside surroundings and estimated how far the distance was to the pavement below. It was funny how he and the other alternates seemed to be looking down at a floor from a high building and thinking about the expanse between rather often. Izaya had a fascination for heights, apparently.

Shizuo shook his head, but growled lowly. Instead of hurling the informant out the window like his daily public property rain, he stomped away, to the living room, presumably to watch TV. Hibiya followed him with his eyes, and regarded the mop of blond hair quietly.

"Still an anomaly..." Sighing, the raven pushed off the window frame and wandered into the kitchen. It was about lunch time now, and he began taking out pots and pans. Vaguely, he wondered if he should cook pasta, since the blond hadn't had the chance to eat Sakuraya's the first time they'd met. No matter- Shizuo probably didn't even remember that. Still, it was the sentiment that mattered, and he rummaged through the pantry and fridge to retrieve the necessary ingredients. It was a good thing Hibiya had taken it upon himself to do the groceries- Shizuo rarely had more than milk and instant noodles in stock.

"Lunch is ready."

He received a grunt in response. _Ah Shizuo-san, sometimes you leave me to wonder just what manner of animal I am attempting to converse with._ He contented himself with a plate of steaming beef stroganoff and observed as Shizuo stomped into the kitchen to help himself as well. Contrary to popular belief, he _did_ eat healthy amounts, and not just off picky things like celery and tofu. Much of his days were just spent running around, extending his brain and not sleeping much, so it was easy to stay thin.

"You met with my other equivalents, yes?" Hibiya asked.

Shizuo's frown answered for him. "They were weird. Not surprised though."

"I supposed you would not be. I apologise for their behaviour." He twirled his fork through the noodle swirls, mushrooms and beef slices. "Roppi can be... antagonising to say the least."

"Rude bastard."

Hibiya's lips quirked upwards. "Well, we have been called worse. But ah, Roppi has self-esteem problems, so it is not so much that he is ill at peace with others as he is with himself. That is why he largely has Psyche covering up for him."

Shizuo regarded him passively, taking in the information like Hibiya expected he would. "Makes sense. Where do you and the pink flea come into it, then?"

"Sakuraya is the emotional one. I guess most people would say he is Izaya's slice of humanity. And me?" Hibiya took a few bites of pasta, barely registering Shizuo's rise to get another helping. "I am the backbone, more or less. I keep us together when we are falling apart at the seams."

Shizuo stopped and looked at him at that. "I see." For the next while, he was content to leave it at that and stuff his face full of food. Hibiya remained quiet as well, picking individual components off his plate until it was clean.

"What."

Shizuo's voice was quite sudden and he stopped eating to incline his head, expecting more words to follow. They didn't.

"Shizuo-san?"

"You wanted me to help you." Mocha eyes watched him carefully, and Hibiya noted how his pupils flicked around, taking in small details about his person. "You've been here 12 days and nothing." Apparently Shizuo had more table manners than Izaya gave him credit, as he swallowed the large mouthfuls before speaking.

"I did say that." Hibiya sighed. "To put it simply, the kind of assistance I am asking of you cannot be fulfilled at this time. Rather, I require your presence currently. Any further aid on your part will be completely voluntary. I will not ask more of you after this."

"Huh." That made no sense whatsoever. Then again, since when did the flea give anyone straight answers? He was practically a walking riddle damn it. But Shizuo wasn't that annoyed.

Wait.

Why wasn't he that annoyed? Reflecting on the past week or so, he knew pretty much next to nothing new about the flea. Nothing had really happened, except the seeming domestication of the flea. Or was that it? Maybe it was the constant of simply_ being_ around Hibiya without getting pissed off that made him less susceptible to getting angry around him. Well fuck, he wondered if the flea had planned that too. Probably. But what could he hope to gain from this? All he'd been doing the past while was housework, and surely he had his own giant loft to do that in. Obviously it was some long term investment, but there really wasn't anything that Shizuo had that the flea would want. So that left Shizuo himself. Hibiya wanted something from him that only required him being around, apparently, but that could be a lie too. Kill him? He had in excess of 12 times to do that when Shizuo was sleeping or napping. Break him slowly? That seemed more likely.

Shit. Better put up his guard again. (When had he taken it down?)

Growling, he dumped his empty plate and utensils in the sink. After grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the counter, he left the kitchen, presumably to smoke outside.

Hibiya waited a few moments before starting to clean up. Pasta was a good idea, it seemed, unless the blond just happened to be very hungry today. Curious, he peered into the pot and should not have been that surprised when he found it almost empty. _So this pot holds a bit over 5 Shizuo-san sized plates and one of mine. A good thing to know, for future reference._ It wouldn't be a good idea to ask if the debt-collector actually liked his cooking, since evidently, he was angry about something.

Well, if he compared this meal's amounts with previous days' average, then today was a far cry from the norm. Not to mention how large the spoonfuls of stroganoff Shizuo was shovelling were. And how fast he was eating.

Hibiya allowed himself a small smile.

* * *

**9 reviews?! Oh you guys make me so happy! **

**I haven't gotten any of the next chapter started, so it's going to take a while. Holidays also end soon, and final exams coming up, so it's going to be slow going for the next while. I have another 20 pages of story, but I need to do some more filling in between before we get into the good stuff. I have a lot of ideas for the climax and the end of the story, but not so much in the middle. Curse you, selective imagination!**

**Suggestions guys? It'll mainly be Hibiya who interacts with Shizuo until Izaya wakes up. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Rai Rai Blue: Haha yeah, everyone says they don't know what to suggest since it's hard to tell where I'm going with this. A kiss huh? Hmm...**

**sasnaru33fy: Thanks for reviewing!**

**Azalea 'Rocchi' Maurish: Hmm yeah I would have said Sakuraya was most likely to try to get help, but Hibiya's the responsibility of Izaya, so he would actually be more likely to act. There will be Shizuo getting along with Izaya's humanity, but I was thinking that might come later, when he wakes up. But we'll see? It might work a bit better for him to drop by or something.**

**Sheep-is-Cute: I know. Often I get inspiration from all the fanart that's out there for this pairing, and a lot of times, reviews help too. People say things about what they might want to see, and I can sometimes connect them at some point in the story.**

**I'm glad Hibiya's amusing. I was sort of afraid people would find him dry and boring. He's certainly a lot more reserved than Izaya. That's part of it, the curiosity. But I actually had something a bit different as a reason. Although that does work!**

**Haha you read my mind OP! Before I had read this review, I wrote that Hibiya had done the laundry, yes. Oh yes, those are good ideas. I could do something with that... No, not rambling there! I love long reviews 3**

**anime1hinata: Thanks! You'll find out in a few chapters, I should think.**

**Celene Rose Mackenzie: Thank you! Why are you putting your facebook up?**

**Tabi Caracu: Thanks again for reviewing! I'm glad this story is still interesting for you guys! I'll consider it!**

**Shizu-Nii: Thank you! I hope I can send out another email notification soon too ^^; Insane follower? Hahahaha!**

**LovelySpiral: Thank you!**

**seika19: Thank you! Yeah, mainstream Hibiya is pompous and looks down on everyone. I didn't particularly like or know how to write as him, so this was easier, I think. Besides, princes and royalty are about responsibility, aren't they?**

* * *

Shizuo was bored. Hibiya had gone out earlier, one of the few times he did. Usually it was for groceries, since he had completely taken over the cooking now. The laundry machine was going, its engine whirring and thudding as it spun the clothes around. And he hadn't even needed to lift a finger.

What were they, married?

Still, he did appreciate the newfound cleanliness of his apartment. While he did like neatness ('uncultured brute' as Izaya put it), he was often too irritated to tidy up. Being the strongest man in Ikebukuro and probably all of humanity (he wasn't egotistical- who else could pick up a truck?) he didn't have the confidence that he could scrub at anything or shelve stuff when he was pissed. Shit broke too easily.

Scanning what he could be bothered to crane his head and look at, he grudgingly admitted that the flea was a pretty damn good housewife. Hibiya didn't bother him, didn't nag about his bad habits, cleaned and cooked everything without complaint, and even did the laundry. Not that he knew what it would be like to have a woman in his apartment doing stuff for him, or that he _wanted_ the flea to be his housewife. He shuddered.

For once in a long time, his apartment didn't smell like an ashtray. The raven had taken it upon himself to air the place when he was away, and sprayed some lemon-scented shit around to muffle the stench. Age-old dust was wiped away and the flea must have gotten one of those confounding carpet soaping machines in, because he was discovering that the floor was not actually brown. It was off-white. That was some strong stuff. His bathroom was actually made up of smooth white tiles (goodness knows what was clinging to them before that made them feel...furry... Was there such a thing as hairy mould? He hoped not...) and clear glass (he thought they were frosted for the longest time, but it was probably just scale). The toilet and sinks no longer clogged, and taps didn't drip. If he hadn't checked the number on his keys and the door, he wouldn't have known it was _his_ apartment at all.

And in the past 9 days, he'd been watching the flea. Not creepily. _Not_ creepily. It had been more, curious? More subdued than he'd ever been around the flea, it hadn't been that hard to notice things. Knowing him for 8 long years and seeing (fighting) him almost every day had embedded in him a sort of unique awareness. Surprisingly, he'd begun to pick up on things.

Whenever Hibiya looked in the mirror, or some other shiny surface, he would wince ever so slightly. Shizuo interpreted that as if he were seeing something he didn't like. Himself? At first he thought the flea was vain, and kept seeing hair out of place or some anorexic shit. After a few times, he noticed the flea's eyes would flick downwards to avoid looking in the mirror, instead of focusing on a particular part of his body in the reflection. He leaned more towards self-disgust.

Hibiya also tended to toy with his knife when he felt insecure. His smiles didn't always reach his eyes, his smirks, never. Sometimes he looked past the blond when he was talking about himself, instead of meeting his eyes. He cleaned spotless surfaces when he was upset. His fingers were restless when he was irritated. He often sat closed off, arms and legs crossed. He frowned when Shizuo brought up Izaya. When he was watching people through the windows, his expression would be melancholic and a little regretful.

In a way, Shizuo was learning more about the flea in a little over a week than he had in 8 years. Some of it he didn't understand, but with time, he'd probably be able to accurately pinpoint the reasons and the meanings. And it was weird.

A louder thud against the door and some jiggling of the lock made him frown and stand. Was Hibiya back already? He'd been pondering things for a while, because the clock read 8pm. _I thought he only went out for groceries? Didn't he leave 2 hours ago?_ More unsuccessful attempts on the lock made him growl and he headed over to the door. "I'm coming, geeze..."

Irritated, and a tiny (very tiny) bit worried, he swung the door open, only to have a small body slump against his front. "Flea, if you're almost dead and decided to make this your grave, I'm going to chuck you down the stairs. You could at least wait until I get a body bag somehow. Damn inconsiderate flea." Hibiya wobbled and pushed off him to stand by himself, the force barely making Shizuo twitch. Plastic bags were piled around his feet, and if he hadn't been wearing white and yellow unlike Izaya, he wouldn't have noticed the blood.

"Oi. You better not be dying, flea. I don't want to dump your body somewhere and be investigated by the police. I already got arrested before, and it was your fault too."

Hibiya was oddly quiet, and he lifted his head to stare dazedly at the blond. The different angle allowed him to see the source of the red liquid, his neck. A horizontal slash across his throat oozed blood, which dripped down and stained his shirt. It looked pretty bad.

"Shit!" The ex-bartender dragged the unsteady raven into his apartment, closing the door behind. "Why didn't you just go to Shinra's instead of hauling your useless butt over here, hah?" It was easy to find one of the numerous first aid kits and he shoved Hibiya into the bathroom to get him patched up. The other flinched slightly from the sting of disinfectant, but remained silent. Wound clean, Shizuo wrapped a bandage around it, trying to make sure it was tight enough to hold neatly, but not enough to suffocate him. Running the tap hot, he scrubbed his hands clean and grabbed some towels to wipe off most of the blood from Hibiya. He promptly threw them in the bin when he was done. _Flea owes me new towels._ He noted and grabbed a fresh change of clothing.

"Can you change without dying?"

Hibiya nodded wearily, and he closed the bathroom door upon leaving. A knock signalled him to open the door and throw his stained clothes in the bin too. Blood was too fucking hard to clean.

"Stupid flea. Gonna call Shinra, so stay there and shut up." Shizuo grumbled, but a tug on his sleeve made him stop. "What? I said stay there."

Hibiya tried to speak, opening and closing his mouth, but could only manage huffs and exhales of air. Frustrated, he picked up his cell phone off the counter and typed a message on it, like Celty often did. Refrain from calling Shinra, please.

"Why the fuck not? I don't want to deal with you. And even if I didn't care, I don't know how."

I will be okay. Just... Abstain from informing him about me, please? I would rather not bother him more.

"So it's okay to bother me more?" Shizuo sighed, but there was little bite to it. Seriously, what was he thinking? "Gonna tell me what happened then, flea?" With surprising gentleness, the blond ushered him into the living room so he could collapse on the couch. Gratefully, Hibiya sank into it, a hand tenderly running over the bandages. The job was well done; just tight enough to hold, and the throbs of pain were becoming more infrequent. The arduous walk back here had been a different story, but he had prepared enough for that.

I encountered some... problems during the return trip.

"Some asshole took a shot at you." It was a statement.

Hibiya hesitated and then nodded. Not exactly, but he wasn't lying by agreeing either. It hadn't hurt as much as he expected, but then again, he'd taken falling/jumping off a building quite well.

"I don't doubt this will happen again, being the second time and all. I don't care you if you get yourself killed, but don't get me in trouble." Shizuo scratched the back of his neck. "And I don't know how to deal with a deep cut like that, so that's your problem." Briefly, he contemplated telling the flea not to dirty anything with his blood, but he figured that'd be pointless. Hibiya was doing all the cleaning nowadays, so it didn't really matter to him.

Another nod.

"Alright... What now..." Hibiya suspected that was more to himself than anything else, but he heard it all the same.

Movie? Hibiya gestured at the small stack of DVDs by the television. Judging by their covers, they were Kasuka's movies. Shizuo looked at them for a moment, awkwardly, before getting up and putting one in. Turning to sit back on the couch, he settled on the opposite side, and was not surprised when the flea's rise from the furniture didn't even cause his end to twitch. Uncaringly, Shizuo watched him leave for the kitchen before switching his attention back to the opening credits. Hibiya returned some minutes later, and placed a steaming mug in front of him, holding on to his own and blowing softly at the rising vapour.

Picking up the mug in confusion, his nose was graced with the scent of rich chocolate and some other sweet spices. To his delight, there were marshmallows floating on the top of the thick beverage, and Hibiya dropped a small bag of them on the small table in front of them. Just in case it wasn't enough. Pleased, he took a sip of the drink and savoured the creamy chocolate on his tongue before swallowing it, the hot liquid leaving a trail of smooth, sugary goodness down his throat to his belly. His apartment wasn't exactly cold, but it was never that warm either, and the hot chocolate left him feeling toasty and drowsy. It was better than any of that stuff from the cans, which were just some malted powder shit. This was melted dreamy stuff. It was also his new favourite drink, topping milkshakes. Although if the flea could make a damn good milkshake in summer, he'd be pretty happy. The flea probably used the expensive stuff, now that he thought about it. All the food he'd cooked was a lot better tasting than some of the stuff he ate out.

Hibiya glanced over at Shizuo, sipping his own chocolate appreciatively. It was a good thing he'd bought the dark chocolate- just the smell of Shizuo's mug made his teeth ache.

Despite the dialogue humming in the background, Hibiya's focus was on the chestnut coloured brew in his cup. Technically he hadn't lied when he said some asshole took a shot at him. Roppi was something of an ass, and he'd been called a lot of other things worse than that. Meticulously, he ran over the night's events in his mind, to make sure he hadn't left anything out, or slipped up anywhere.

* * *

Hibiya had left the apartment on one of the blond's free days, just to be certain that he'd be there when the raven returned, worse for wear. The night had been clear, and there was barely any wind, which was good because he had a single goal in mind, and he didn't need any distracting noises. Forever cautious, he'd also made sure he had called the Kishitani residence when the doctor and the courier were out, and when he was safely away from prying eyes and ears.

"Hello?" Sakuraya's calm voice made him smile grimly.

"I am commencing with the second part. Kindly pass the phone to Roppi." Hibiya replied stiffly.

"Already?" Through the phone, Hibiya could still pick up the bittersweet sadness in the other's tone and he sighed audibly into the receiver. As he expected, the noise was enough answer for his counterpart, who tossed the phone to Roppi. Faintly, he could hear Sakuraya's polite introduction to the darker male. "Roppi, Hibiya is ready."

"Where are you?" Wasting no time, Roppi was preparing to leave, if the rustling in the background was any indication. That was good. It was still early, and he could buy the groceries before Roppi would make it, and even find a good place for it to take place.

"I am still situated near Shizuo-san's residence, and I do not plan to stray far. It is a fair distance for you to travel, but I will need to be able to carry the bags without losing too much blood."

"I'm on my way."

Snapping the cell shut, Hibiya strode purposefully towards the closest supermarket, taking his time while he was inside. Idly weaving in between shelves, he made sure to drop some good quality chocolate and marshmallows into his basket, and then searched for ingredients for meals. After the plan came to fruition, he probably wouldn't be leaving the residence for a while, so he made sure to stock up. Grabbing various items, he walked towards the fresh produce isles, and paused to pick up a few 3 litre bottles of milk. Heavy stuff, but necessary for the brute that ate like a kid waiting for him. The prospect of carrying all of it back while injured and dizzy made him grimace, but he steeled himself for it and paid for the groceries.

Upon exiting the store, he could sense someone following him very stealthily. Not at all alarmed, the golden-eyed male slinked into an alleyway close to Shizuo's and waited. Immediately, Roppi stepped out from the shadows, his knife glinting in the light as it tumbled handle over blade in the air, only to be caught and tossed again. "Shall we?" He punctuated the statement by snatching the flick blade and pointing it at him.

"Indeed. I trust you read Shinra's book?" Hibiya nodded at him, recalling all the medical books he had read while in the doctor's dwelling. (Chapter 4: when Sakuraya returned)

"Of course. I only get one shot at this." Roppi snorted and closed the distance between them, regarding him evenly. In a rare moment of compassion, the normally stoic persona kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry. It's always you who suffers the most." His breath ruffled Hibiya's hair, and if he wasn't right next to the other, he wouldn't have heard a thing.

"I will do whatever it takes." Pale eyelids slid shut over honey orbs as he murmured his reply. The displacement and gentle force against his hair alerted him of Roppi's nod, before the warmth radiating from his body moved away. Ready for the painful part, Hibiya forced himself to relax and ignored the tight knot of anticipation forming in his abdomen. It was almost a relief when he felt the sharp tug of a blade across his neck, followed by the steady warm trickle of blood. The pain was a dull aching roar, little compared to the constant suffering he had endured over the years, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.

When he opened his eyes, Roppi was gone. Breathing heavily, he picked up the bags, wincing as each movement caused flares of pain, and began the difficult walk home. Confident that Roppi had measured the cut correctly, he didn't bother to treat it, focussing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

* * *

Nothing _seemed_ out of place, but only time would tell. For now, he just had to deal with the sudden loss of his voice.

Presently, the movie was rolling steadily in the background and he tuned in again to some cheesy lines. It wasn't so much that the acting was bad, although it was except for Kasuka, but he'd never really taken any interest in movies. Whether it was the complete lack of educational or physically possible information they flaunted, or the dissatisfaction of spending an hour plus watching something that felt too short to be real, there was just something irreplaceably _boring_ about fiction. Of course, he knew it wasn't real, since it _was_ fiction after all, but blown-out of proportion movies resolved themselves too quickly and cleanly. That was what he had a problem with. Life never worked out as serenely as those picture-perfect Barbies and Kens had it; it set you up, screwed you over, and stepped on you while you were crawling in misery. Some things just don't get corrected, and deaths aren't always divided into martyrs and villains. It almost wasn't fair how they built up an unrealistic expectation that was obviously fake, but made you want it all the same.

Left with little else to brood over for the time being, fatigue caught up with his body, overruling any internal protests to stay awake. Regardless of his half-hearted struggle to keep consciousness, his mind drifted and his eyes were heavy with sleep. His last coherent thought was to at least conk out on the armrest, so that he could avoid the precarious situation of leaning on the volatile blond, before everything blacked out.

Shizuo glanced over when he noticed the movement in his peripheral vision, but made no move to act upon the information. Stubbornly, the larger honey-eyed male kept his gaze fixed on the film.

It was only after the credits had fully rolled and the movie rewound itself back to the title screen that the blond got up to turn the TV off.

He was only doing this because Hibiya was hurt.

Heading over to the linen closet, Shizuo pulled out a thin blanket and returned to the living room. Hibiya remained curled up next to the armrest, looking more vulnerable and innocent than the blond had ever seen _anyone_. That thought took him by surprise and he studied the raven's face, searching for any signs that he was just playing, and was actually awake. Instead, Hibiya's face crinkled slightly and he frowned in his sleep, his body drawing in on itself tightly.

Shaking his head as if to clear it of the weird thoughts, Shizuo tossed the blanket over the small ball and went to brush his teeth for bed. On the way out, he flicked off the lights, leaving Hibiya dreaming of being a head tall and trapped in a glass container full of water, drowning. Even the warmth of the blanket couldn't dispel the cold seeping into the raven from his nightmare.

* * *

After harming his more respectable mirror-image, Roppi felt unwholesome. Of course, Hibiya _was_ the most responsible out of all of them, which was why he ordained to take charge in the first place. Still, when Roppi was the one orchestrating city-wide chaos and driving recklessly through peoples' lives, it made him feel guilty that he wasn't the one taking the fall for it. At the same time, he was relieved, because he would have no idea how to deal with any aftermath- he wasn't that part of Izaya.

He didn't like being apart from the informant. Being isolated made him feel exposed and vulnerable, like anyone could find out this entire thing was just a tired façade. Staying inside the doctor's home only made him feel worse. Everything was familiar, having visited here countless times, usually as a result of his shady dealings. Everything was a reminder.

And he hated it.

Even the book he was currently perusing was a reminder. Exasperated, he sailed the medical volume across the room, where it hit the back of the shelf and toppled effortlessly into its place. There was a minute satisfaction in the perfect shot, before he was growing increasingly irritated by his surroundings again, particularly the light streaming in through the window.

"Hey! Be careful with those!" Shinra complained, knowing full well it was pointless to argue, especially since the tome was intact. Celty put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and also to tug him back slightly in case he had any hare-brained ideas about lecturing the other male.

He was ignored.

"Psyche!"

Like a butler, Psyche appeared by his side immediately. "What is it Roppi-chan?"

"Let's go somewhere." Dim maroon orbs slid lazily around the room, barely taking in sensory information. Everything was dull, the world suddenly shades darker than he could remember even though it was still early in the day. Unlike most people, he wasn't disillusioned about his condition. From time to time, he would sink into moderately depressive stages, which really could be considered serious depression for normal people, and then he would improve to his regular state, where psychiatrists would say he was mildly depressed. His perpetual demeanour was dejected and unfeeling, fluctuating between bouts of furious despair and periods of overwhelming hopelessness. On the rare and blessed occasion, he was numb. Right now, he was despondent and just needed to get away from the too-caring expressions and prodding of Shinra and Celty. _Don't ask me if I'm okay. I can't give you an answer that won't make you worry._

"Okay!" Psyche pulled up his hood and swept up Roppi's parka off the coffee table. Abnormally blind to his other half's decline, the bubbly raven manoeuvred Roppi's limbs to make his don the garment. It was relatively easy for him, seeing as Roppi was unusually compliant and the magenta-eyed male slipped a few switch blades into the pockets just in case. In light of the depressed man's preference, he didn't bother to correct his wearing of the coat when it slipped down to his elbows. "Let's go!"

Are you sure? It doesn't seem like a good idea to go out when Roppi is upset like this. Celty typed for Psyche to read.

"Of course it's okay! Roppi-chan's fine. I'll look after him, don't you worry! I promised Hibiya, after all." Smiling broadly, Psyche nudged Roppi out the door.

"Psyche," Shinra halted him by tugging on his wrist, and lowered his voice so that Roppi wouldn't hear. Immediately, Psyche jerked his hand away, but his grin didn't fade in the slightest. Puzzled but not offended, Shinra continued. "I think Roppi's depressed. It's not good for him to be out, especially when Izaya had many enemies. Someone might decide to hurt him."

"I said don't worry. We can look after ourselves. Who do you think we come from, ne? Besides, we're armed." A slight twist of his wrist brought his blade out and ready and he raised it to the doctor's line of vision. Another twitch and the knife was gone, presumably into the sleeves or pocket of the white parka- Shinra wasn't able to keep track of where. "Saku-chan! Do you want to come along with us?"

"No! He's the last person I want near me." Roppi hissed. "Don't invite him."

Psyche hummed in response and followed his darker look-alike out into the hallway, closing the door behind him quietly.

Shinra looked nonplussed at Celty, who merely shrugged. While he had no doubt that Izaya could look after himself, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about his parts. They _were_ only fragments of the real thing, and that could possibly mean they only shared a fraction of his abilities. Still, it wasn't like their intelligence was diminished; he supposed there wasn't really a reason to worry, especially when there were two of them. All the same, Roppi wasn't exactly _stable_ and Psyche was a little flaky at times, meaning they weren't the best combination to be sending out to the world. They'd probably offend half the city by nightfall if they weren't careful. Then again, according to Celty's theory, Roppi and Psyche made up the surface layers of Izaya, so it wouldn't really make a difference. The informant was hated by much of the city, so it was already late for that.

"Celty-san?" Sakuraya inclined his head towards the kitchen, indicating an invitation for their daily cooking lessons. Celty gave Shinra's shoulder a slight squeeze and followed the kimono-clad male.

The small gesture made the brunet grin widely, and he headed off to work in a good mood.

Celty was surprised when she saw the ingredients laid out on the countertop. Brightly coloured vegetables, flour and eggs were the most notable things, but there was an array of others scattered across the granite top. What is this? She observed Sakuraya curiously as he pulled out a fairly large rectangular pan.

"You were interested in the last time I made pasta, so I thought we could do that today. Since it's still early, we can even make the dough from scratch." A gentle smile was sent her way, and if she could have, she wouldn't have been able to help returning the expression.

Okay. How do we start?

"Can you help me cut these up? I washed them already."

The dullahan took the knife from the block and began to dice the capsicums. As always, it was nice to be helpful in the kitchen, and it was convenient for both of them if she chopped the vegetables. Although she could have just as easily put her hand to other things (except seasoning-that was hard), this way, Sakuraya didn't have to cry over onions. Vaguely, she wondered if the slim male would even shed a tear. Izaya was hardy and unfeeling, so it would make sense if his kinder self didn't, even if he was more emotional than his namesake.

Curiously, she watched the coral-eyed male knead the pasta dough, sleeves rolled up to the shoulder. In a way, she could still see a little of the old Izaya; Sakuraya's eyes were focused and rather calculative. Where did you learn to cook? It's not something I would have thought you would choose to learn.

He hummed. "When we- my sisters and I- were younger, my parents weren't around much. I did most of the cooking for us and let's just say they were very insistent on certain things." He shook his head, no doubt remembering the twins' antics, but there was a smile on his face.

The thought of a loving little Orihara trio was rather heart-warming, an unexpected sentiment to be associated with Izaya, but endearing all the same. Then you know how to make a lot of things?

"Indeed. Food was something they were always enthusiastic about and watching lifestyle channels on TV probably didn't help. I must have spoiled them, I admit. They were always asking for things they saw on shows."

You spoiled them?

"I suppose I did. You know Izaya- when he became Tokyo's best informant, money wasn't an issue. I-we tried not to give in to too many things, but once in a while was alright. And only if they behaved." Sakuraya chuckled. "Food was another thing, though. Our family was quite well to do anyway, so they let me buy whatever I wanted. Ah, but material things didn't appeal to me quite as much as others, so it's not as if I abused that liberty. The only time I bought a lot was when we were shopping for ingredients."

Apparently, the separate personalities of the informant used 'I' or 'we' interchangeably when speaking about Izaya and themselves. How come your parents weren't around? There was a brief hesitation before she held up her PDA for him to read. Given Izaya's reluctance to allow others to really know him, it was a little risky to be asking such a question, since the raven might just close off. However, Sakuraya didn't seem to mind.

"They were always busy with work." He shrugged. "People are like that. Parents have been attempting to make up for their lack of time for their children with money for years."

That's kind of sad. Your parents are supposed to look after you so that you can enjoy your life without having to worry about adult things.

"That wasn't really a problem. It's not like I had to struggle through school, and Mairu and Kururi didn't cause too much trouble for me. They're good girls, even if they make waves at school sometimes. Besides, it was a good learning experience- picking up life-long skills."

I guess so. 

"Could you turn the stove on and start cooking the mince with the onions?" Sakuraya inquired politely as he wrapped the dough in plastic film and put it in the refrigerator.

She flashed an affirmative at him and moved towards the stove. Done with the dough, the slight male supervised her, adding the other ingredients when he deemed the mix ready.

"Do you remember much of Ireland?" It was tentative, giving her the option to refuse to talk about it if she so wished and she couldn't remember a time when Izaya had been so accommodating.

Not really. My head has most of my memories. All I can recall is waking up without my head and knowing it was moving away from me. I eventually stole onto a boat, and Shooter became a motorcycle to avoid suspicion. Celty held up her PDA for him to read before erasing and typing again. I met Shinra and his father there. They allowed me to stay with them and I've been living here since.

"You and Shinra are close." Sakuraya chuckled. "Take care of him, ne? He can be a naive dork sometimes."

He usually is. Celty showed him the message, her smoke swirling lazily in the air.

Sakuraya smiled, his eyes dancing amusedly. "Always." He eyed the shadowy mist curiously. "Where does it dissipate to, I wonder?"

I don't know. Perhaps if I had my head, I would understand more about myself.

He felt guilty for a moment, but pushed it aside. Sakuraya was aware of Izaya's reasons for keeping the head, and he respected them. "That's true. Maybe it diffuses into the air and we just breathe it in."

Maybe. If that's the reason why Shinra is so unconventional, then I'm sorry. He must have been breathing it in for years. Celty flashed him the words, but it held a playful sort of tone.

"That's quite alright. Shinra's probably been breathing in all sorts of chemicals for years, being an underground doctor and all." Sakuraya hummed in agreement. "He's a good person though."

Celty paused, paying attention to him, her equivalent of staring. Hearing Izaya/Sakuraya's real impressions of people was new to her, and she wondered if it was truth. Carefully, she tapped out a response, seeking to prompt more on the sensitive topic. Yes he is. I am lucky to be living with him, for all the other people I could have met, even if he is sort of peculiar.

"Please don't misunderstand- I don't mean any harm by it, but ah, to find a person who is willing to love you despite your differences is truly a fortune indeed." Sakuraya stared into the bubbling pot, watching them rise and pop with a wistful expression. "Especially when the differences are things most others would alienate you for."

Cautiously, she reached out and rested her hand lightly on his forearm. Unsure of how to communicate with this new version of Izaya (although it would be inaccurate and a bit insolent to say 'new'- they had just never taken the time to really _know_ Izaya), non-verbal comfort was the only kind she knew how to give.

It was on this delicate and fairly _personal_ moment that Shinra walked in, drawn towards the kitchen by the smell of herbs and tomatoes. A dramatic and exaggerated gasp accompanied his entrance, and there really wasn't anyone in Sakuraya's memory who could pull off that scandalised yet delighted huff that was one of Shinra's eccentricities.

"Is that how you play? Trying to steal away my beloved goddess through cooking? The correct expression is 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach'! Don't be trying that on my dullahan beaut- Oof!" Shinra grinned dorkishly (not a word, but really; nothing fit better) at the object of his affections, rubbing his own stomach lightly. "Speaking of stomaches, is lunch ready yet? Mine is growling with love and hunger!" Shinra flung his arms out and practically pranced towards the headless woman. He was rewarded with another punch.

That's weird. Celty shifted away from Sakuraya to maintain the respectful distance from before. If your stomach is growling from anything other than hunger and feeling nauseous, then you should check up on yourself.

"Well, that sort of sound can also come from borborygmus, but that's not really relevant in this case. Actually, there's a distinction between nauseous and nauseated! Most people get them mixed up, although I suppose the meaning has been lost a little now." Shinra observed sunnily. "You know it, don't you, Sakuraya?"

"Nauseous: causing disgust or loathing. Nauseating: feeling or suffering from nausea; however the modern meaning has the two definitions switched, with the term 'nauseate' being less commonly used." Sakuraya replied easily, the words sliding off his tongue without seemingly needing in-depth thought or memory. He appeared more preoccupied with the rolling out of the dough he retrieved from the fridge. "Although nauseous has retained both meanings; when used after a verb, it generally takes on the usage of nauseated, but as an adjective still has its historical meaning."

"Exactly!" Shinra hopped over to inspect the contents of the pot and Celty would have shook her head if she had it.

You're still weird. To Sakuraya, she typed, Don't encourage him, please.

Shinra simply laughed it off and Sakuraya smiled.

"But isn't the evolution of language fascinating? Humans can never keep words straight and generations become progressively less concerned with semantics and proper English. Words even disappear from use altogether over the vicissitudes of years."

"'Vicissitudes' is probably one of them." Shinra remarked.

"Well perhaps language is something we should keep alive. Revisit old, unused words and thou shalt be bless'd with a fair expanse of vocabulary."

"Too far." Shinra deadpanned, but his eyes still twinkled with mirth.

"I give you my sincere apologies. Literature wasn't one of your favourite subjects in high school." Sakuraya cut the flat sheets of dough into long thin strips with fluid strokes, the knife in his hand a blur as he worked. When it all resembled fettuccini, he slipped them into the boiling pot of water, adding salt and stirring occasionally.

"You know me, once a science nerd, always a science nerd!" Shinra leaned on a countertop, watching as Celty put the kettle on to boil and returned to the sauce. "Is it ready yet?" He looked hopeful.

"Be a little more patient. It will be ready in three or so minutes. Fresh pasta cooks faster than the dry ones."

"Ah yes, the epitome of patience tells me so! I will be counsell'd."

"See? You did retain something from three years of Shakespeare."

Celty remained quiet, content to listen to the two of them bicker. She understood that sideways kind of delight Shinra expressed when he saw the dullahan and the raven getting along. Izaya had always been the loneliest person, in her opinion. She took the initiative to drain the noodles in a colander, figuring it was done and turned off the stove. At the movement, Shinra lit up and bounced over, plate in hand to fork a mountain of pasta and sauce on it in a large, bright heap. With a contented sense of achievement, she observed the two of them bringing their plates to the table, their eating styles varying greatly- Shinra was shovelling it into his mouth like it would be the last thing he would eat, and Sakuraya was daintily twisting it on his fork to avoid dirtying his kimono.

Food in mouth, Shinra attempted to praise her and everything she did to the high heavens.

Which she ignored.

The pink and white clad male gave her an encouraging smile, but remained silent, deeming Shinra's babble sufficient enough to compliment her, and at the rate he was going, give her an inflated head (no pun intended).

Celty was more than happy to assist Sakuraya in cooking. These precious moments of warmth were probably few and far in-between, possibly non-existent, for the informant.

It would be cruel to deny him that.

* * *

**OP, what have you done to me? Look how long this monster fic is now. I'm even writing when I should be doing practice exams! I think my last story was like, 800 words lol...**

**A long chapter this time, since I'm going to start exams in a few weeks (6000+ words instead of the usual 4000 or so) I'll be done by December, I think. I might do a few illustrations for this, a comic if I'm ambitious. So, tell me what you want to see? I'll get around to it when I'm procrastinating studying xD**

**My chapters are getting steadily longer ._. The first one was a bit under 4000...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sheep-is-Cute: First of all... ASDFGKUSDIUH Such a long review! You spoil me OP! 333**

**I'm so happy you've been enjoying the scenes. I was quite unsure with that actually. I'm not very good with emotional scenes, especially depressing ones. (And I know you asked for a lot of angst, so I'm trying to write some scenes for later, but it's really hard!) But yeah, Hibiya is the one keeping the balance and the peace. He's sort of like the voice of reason and logic? **

**Yes Hibiya's plan is in motion, and Izaya's not too happy about where he's going with it. Yes! I have a soft spot for domestic!Izaya. =w=**

**Shinra's a bit dense, lol. He can't read atmosphere very well. Ah yes, I imagined that Izaya would have been more light-hearted in junior high or high school and maybe he bickered with Shinra during class. **

**You did, but if you want to continue telling me, I'm cool with that xD I have been thinking of doing some sort of illustration for a while- I just need to figure out which scene(s) to do. Don't worry OP, you're not creepy! If you would illustrate something for this, that would be awesome! I'll think about drawing that- maybe it'll be the first thing I try?**

**Thanks again, OP!**

**sasunaru22fy: Thanks for reviewing!**

**Monochrome: Thank you! I'm relieved you found my writing and grammar decent!**

**Guest: Thanks! I'm so happy you like it! ^^**

**Ose93: Thanks! Exams went fairly well, actually. (Especially since I didn't really study, haha!)**

**Guest: An update for you! Your eagerness made me smile haha!**

**Naomh: Thank you!**

**Sorry for such a long wait guys! We were on holiday in Asia and I couldn't access the internet much!**

* * *

White. His world was white. It hadn't been before, but as gentle light gathered into a humanoid shape, it lightened to reflect the blank emptiness of the walls Shinra was probably housing his baggage of a body in.

Mournfully, he moved over to the newcomer, leaning his head against a silk covered shoulder. With a disjointed awareness, he felt a hand lightly rubbing circles into his back. Breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms, Izaya was at a loss of what to say.

The last few visits and experiences from his alternates had been a rollercoaster of emotions and he didn't know which one was winning out- turbulent agitation or general loss of direction. To be fair, it could have been distressed desperation, or maybe even an amalgamation of the three. All he was sure of was that the whole experience was leaving him a wreck. Throughout the visits from his isolated personas, his sense of purpose was fluctuating in wild bounces, like a tower of terror, eventually leaving him in an odd sort of vibration between slight desolation and meagre hope. In fact, the entirety of his mental state could probably be summed up by a theme park- looks fun, but there's a whole lot of screaming going on inside.

Furious despair suddenly bubbled up inside him.

There was nothing, _nothing_ he could do to stop it all. His sense of self-preservation was too great currently, although he could do something about that later. But right now, he couldn't see any escape. Maybe he was conditioned to see only what was inside his carefully crafted box, but when he was desperately, futilely searching for an exit, he only came up with one.

The problem was that he cared. He'd always cared, but that was what allowed him to be controlled. He could either stop caring, or break free. And after years of living under steely influence, he knew trying to flee the confines would be to no avail.

It was the furious despair that drove him to stab Sakuraya in the chest. Sakuraya was the part of him that cared. If he could just get rid of it-!

A barely audible pained whimper escaped his kinder half, but Sakuraya didn't move. Shakily continuing to rub wobbly ellipses into his back, the rose-eyed male let out an erratic sigh. It wasn't enough.

Another stab. There was no blood. They were in his mind after all. And all things considered, this was probably the only way he could actually terminate his alternates.

By destroying them himself.

Stab.

Even if he was destroying part of himself, he didn't care.

Stab.

Everything was crashing down around him anyway.

Stab.

At least Sakuraya was the one who got to enjoy the warmth of human interaction, even though Celty didn't really fall into that category.

Stab.

Wistful.

Stab.

Desperate.

Stab.

_Guilty._

He stopped.

"Sorry. I'm s-so sorry... I- I c-can't..." _I can't keep on going like this._ His voice shook as violently as Sakuraya's hands had, but his eyes stayed as dry as they had always been. He squeezed them shut, as if forcing them closed could block out everything.

Sakuraya's hands had stilled, but they remained rested on his shoulders. "Neither can I..." He answered directly to Izaya's thoughts. "I'm going to disappear soon. Make your choice..."

Izaya froze. He'd lost control again. He hadn't meant to, but it seemed his breakdowns were coming in more frequent and he really didn't want to lose Sakuraya. Or did he? Really, the logic of losing his emotions to stop it all was definitely attractive, but in doing so, he would lose his humanity. To stop caring about the bad things he did was the last straw.

"Goodbye Izaya..."Sakuraya whispered softly as he disappeared. "Thank you..."

Izaya was left staring into the blankness of his domain.

* * *

Shizuo woke to the smell of honey and fried eggs. Frowning, he rose out of bed, running a hand through messy blond locks. Sleep addled, his brain refused to function as quickly as it normally did (if Izaya knew that, he'd be laughing for days. At least it was Hibiya who was staying with him...). Blinking the drowsiness from his eyes, he ambled into the kitchen, mere metres away from his bedroom. Now well acquainted with the sight of Hibiya anywhere in his apartment, he wasn't surprised to see the slender male cooking breakfast.

He leaned over Hibiya's shoulder to inspect the pan.

French toast.

Good morning. Hibiya reached out and grabbed his phone off the counter, holding the pre-typed message over his shoulder. Erasing and typing again, a question was flashed at him. Hungry?

"Kind of." Shizuo's stomach chose this particular moment to give him away. "Yes."

The corners of Hibiya's mouth quirked upwards. The only other indication that he'd heard the blond's stomach was the reopening of the egg carton and the bread bag. He inclined his head towards the platter of cooked toast, fully expecting Shizuo to understand. Sometime during the past however many weeks, the debt collector must have picked up _something_, because he took the plate with him to the table without comment, grabbing every sweet condiment from the pantry/fridge on the way. The slim male's nose wrinkled at the blond's poor choice in diet. At least Hibiya being in charge of the menu nowadays meant Shizuo had a wider range of nutrition, but judging from the rate at which he consumed sugar, that positive effect may be negated anyway.

Leaving the stove briefly, Hibiya poured a glass of milk for Shizuo, passing it to him as he returned to the kitchen. Slightly confused, he took the glass and left. Shizuo probably would have gotten it the first time, had his hands not been full of jars of diabetes.

Preoccupied with cooking and used to hearing the sounds of Shizuo noisily eating in the adjoining room, he considered it a disappointing failure on his part that he didn't notice the knock at the door. That Shizuo didn't either didn't bear mentioning.

"Hey Shizuo! We made today a day off, so let's do something!"

The apartment went silent save for the pan crackling.

"Go hide or something." Shizuo hissed at the raven, and ushered him into his room. Swinging open the cupboard, he pushed the unresisting male into it and closed the door behind. Hibiya observed the offending block of wood, his mind belatedly, uselessly remembering seeing an amygdaliform doorknob before he was unceremoniously shoved inside the closet, the likely result of an annoyed Shizuo gripping it too hard. Really, it was some wonder that it managed to be squished so smoothly into the shape, and he found himself idly trying to imagine how the blond could have involuntarily accomplished such a thing, all the while hyper aware of how the debt collector had no intention of allowing his new personal life and his work life cross. Or rather, how Shizuo had no intention of allowing Hibiya's presence to be known to his co-workers- out of pride, shame- he didn't know.

Feeling oddly disconnected from the world, even though it _was_ just a wardrobe the size of a broom closet, Hibiya leaned back against a cool wall and gave in to gravity, sliding easily down between the baskets of home clothing on the floor, taking care not to crinkle the outfits hung carefully on clothes hangers. Somehow through all the washing and summer-scented detergent, the blond's clothes still managed to smell faintly of something smoky and rich like very fragrant coffee, something warm and strong, something that was Shizuo. With some effort, he refrained from embarrassing himself, because burying his face in one of the ex bartender's shirts and inhaling deeply amounted to just that. Well, not that there was anyone around to notice and for him to be embarrassed in front of, but he'd rather not make a habit of giving in to humiliating whims.

He could barely make out the soft rumble of Shizuo's voice and the murmur of his colleagues. They seemed leagues away, in a world he could not reach. Hibiya closed his eyes.

A completely different atmosphere greeted Shizuo upon opening the door. Vorona and Tom were cheerful enough, if that slight softening around the eyes in his kouhai's face counted. "You didn't have to come and visit. A call would have been enough." Shizuo rubbed the back of his neck and stepped aside to let them in.

"We wanted to come see you. Make sure you're getting by fine." Tom replied easily, setting down a box on the table. Naturally, his gaze fell upon the half-eaten breakfast and subsequently, to the pan in the kitchen. "Ah? I thought you said you couldn't cook."

"I... can't."

At the weird looks thrown his way, he realised the numerous gaping holes in his response and scrambled for an explanation.

"It's uh... that ready-made stuff. Just... add water..."

The fact that the weird looks were now exchanged between his co-workers instead of being directed at him was not lost on the blond. "French toast? Really?" Tom levelled the disbelieving face at him now. "Are you sure you don't have a girlfriend or something stashed away somewhere?" He asked jokingly, but a sliver of alarm ran up Shizuo's spine.

"No."

"Negative is an answer to being sure or to having a significant other?" Vorona inquired, confused. "Please clarify."

"No to having a girlfriend!" Shizuo sighed in exasperation. "I don't!"

Really, Shizuo was getting increasingly irritated with the non-verbal communication going on between them. He might be dense, but even he got it when they were shooting meaningful looks so blatantly in between his remarks.

"If you say so, although one negative would have been enough..." Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Don't." Shizuo warned.

"Alright." Tom raised his hands in a placating way, knowing better than to push his co-worker. "Come to think of it, there was this new café that opened up a few days ago. They were giving pamphlets out on the street on the way here. I can't remember the name or street though. The sweets looked really good." His gaze panned around the room thoughtfully.

"We interrupted senpai's dodgy breakfast. Social etiquette recommends we make up for interruption. Request back-track and acquisition of pamphlets." Vorona supplied.

Tom nodded in agreement. "Sorry about that, Shizuo."

"No, that's fine. It was nice of you guys to drop by." The blond shot a slight smile at his colleagues, but added, "You don't have to go out and find them now. We can all go later, since we have the day off."

"Nah, finish your breakfast. Vorona and I won't be long." Tom gave a slight wave to match his kouhai's small bow and then they left.

After waiting a few moments to make sure they had gone, Shizuo trudged back to his room, opening the closet door. Leaning against the doorframe, he observed Hibiya's concentration face as he used his finger to play some colourful game on his phone. Curled up next to the wall, the raven glanced up at him, apparently losing track of the swinging of some red and white striped candy and cutting the string too late, judging by the slight frown and hurried swipe of his finger across the screen. It veered off to the left, missing the frog-like creature by a centimetre, which opened its mouth and closed it, looking sad when it wasn't fed. Hibiya's disappointed-sympathetic expression made him chuckle softly.

"Alright flea, enough games. Tom and Vorona left to get some stuff, but they'll be back. What are you going to do today?" It still felt weird making his way back to his French toast with Izaya's mirror-image trailing after him obediently.

Hibiya rubbed his forearm absently.

"You don't know." It was a statement.

He shrugged, confirming Shizuo's assessment.

The blond picked up his plate and chewed on the crust. "Maybe you could go out or something. You're always here when I leave and when I get back. Do you ever leave?"

Hibiya glanced at the kitchen.

"That hardly counts." He waved a corner of the toast at Hibiya, who wrinkled his nose at the crumbs that dropped. "It's only what- 5 minutes to walk to the nearest grocery store? In all, that's maybe 30 minutes for you to get whatever it is you fill my fridge with now. Besides, you don't have to go for groceries that often."

Hibiya's lips quirked again and he levelled an amused but pointed look in his companion's direction.

"I don't eat _that_ much, flea." He rolled his eyes. "Where is your phone nowadays? I haven't seen it since the day before yesterday."

The raven shrugged, but inclined his head and looked at the debt-collector.

"I suppose not." Taking a few moments to mull that over, Shizuo slowly started chugging his milk.

A soft huff.

"_No_, you do _not_ need to go to the store while I'm gone. I can drop by on the way back to get some more."

Hibiya nodded and looked aimlessly around the room.

"I don't think we'll be gone for that long." His eyes softened somewhat. "Don't miss me too much."

Hibiya scoffed.

As Shizuo was raising his hand towards Hibiya, there was a sharp rap on the door and panicking, he did the first thing that came to his mind.

He shoved Hibiya under the table.

Upon opening the door, he was surprised to see his co-workers with two white bakery boxes in plastic bags. "Tom-san?"

"Well funny thing, actually... We headed out to go find the pamphlets, but it turns out the bakery was right across the street! I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself!" Tom laughed and held up the bag. "Well it seemed kind of silly to go walking out there and just ask for the pamphlets, so we bought a couple of things that looked good and came back here."

"There was a wide variety of patisserie." Vorona agreed.

"Yeah, well... You've been acting sort of odd lately, so maybe some sweets will do you good."

There was a snort from under the table.

"Shizuo? Do you have company?" Tom peered around the blond into the seemingly empty apartment.

"Forceful exhale of air can traced back to beneath the table. Does senpai require pest extermination?" Vorona's brow furrowed slightly and she frowned at the too-long tablecloth that draped over the sides and brushed the floor.

"Uhh no..." Shizuo scratched the back of his neck. "That's... my cat."

"You have a cat?"

"Yeah... It was a stray... He's kinda quiet and pretty clean. I picked him up about a week ago." It wasn't really a lie, other than him calling Hibiya a cat, although the informant was rather catty. He knew he was a poor liar, so telling half-truths was better than outright lying.

Damn, he must be picking things up from the flea.

"Uhh okay? Well we brought the food over thinking we could share it here. Vorona and I haven't had breakfast yet and you're always up for sweets, but if your cat minds or something." Tom shuffled awkwardly.

"Um no." Shizuo blinked and stood aside, not sure what to do. He just hoped this wasn't going to go down badly.

Taking off their shoes, his colleagues followed him in and Shizuo closed the door behind, suddenly apprehensive. Cursing his brain, he struggled to remain calm. He _hoped_ it wasn't going to go down badly? He shoved Hibiya _under the table_ for goodness sake! And he was pretty damn sure they were going to eat _at the table_. Fuck.

They sat down at the table.

Double fuck.

"What kind of cat do you have?" Curious, Tom started to lift the edge of the cloth.

"A really rabid cat!" Shizuo blurted out. _Fuck, don't look under the table damnit-!_

"A wha-?" Tom dropped the cloth as if it was poison and looked at him confused. "Isn't rabies only in dogs? And isn't it infectious? You haven't been bitten or anything, have you?" (A/N: You can also get rabies from raccoons, foxes, skunks and bats. So watch out!)

"Bad idea to adopt strays. One does not know if wandering animals have contagious afflictions." Vorona nodded solemnly and reached for her cell. "If you have any wounds, I will call the doctor for you. Rabies requires multiple tests to detect."

"No, it's not diseased... just, really violent... with people he doesn't know! Yeah! He scratches peoples' faces off!" A drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. That... was crap.

"He what?" Tom looked slightly alarmed and scooted his chair away from the table. As if on cue, the chair next to Tom was also bumped away. Jumping a little, Tom looked to the chair, eyes wide. "I don't think your cat likes me."

"Uhh it should be fine..." Shizuo replied lamely. "You guys ah, have my smell on you... so it's okay. He's just... shy..."

"He identifies by smell? Are you sure you don't have a rabid dog or something?" Tom eyed the tablecloth warily and frowned deeply, slowly scooching away more when there was a poke to the fabric from behind.

_Damn it flea, stop moving! You're not making this easier!_ Shizuo nodded. "Here... You can sit. It'll be okay." Trying to demonstrate, he pulled out a chair and sat across from where Tom had been. "But um, just don't lift the tablecloth or anything. He doesn't like light and gets upset. He uh, likes being under the table... where it's dark."

"So... You have a face-mauling rabid cat-dog-troll living under your table because it likes the dark." Tom raised an eyebrow, but inched his way back over to the table, still eyeing the cloth. "And where the heck did you get him from?"

"Pest exterminator is no longer relevant. Senpai should consider an exorcist instead. I can recommend a few to you if you like." Vorona inclined her head, but calmly took at seat next to Tom.

"Uhh no." _Why the fuck do you know exorcists?_ "Uh I found him. On the street. He wanted to stay with me." Shizuo opened the box, his mood only lifting minutely at the array of fruity, creamy and buttery delights inside. He desperately needed a cigarette. Maybe that exterminator- fuck, that _exorcist_ would be a pretty damn good idea for when Izaya returned. Maybe he should get that number off his kouhai. And he knew it was getting pretty fucking strange when he was actually considering turning to those stupid black arts things where people in black sith robes danced around cauldrons and sacrificed random shit to curse other people. He could imagine Izaya doing that. (A/N: Shizuo's view does not represent the author's take on black magic. Please don't curse me.)

"What, he just asked you if he could stay here?" Tom asked jokingly, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Yeah," replied Shizuo without thinking. At both their blank faces, he scrambled for something to say. "I speak cat." What the fuck brain. Of all the things-!

...

It should not have been that.

For the first time in his life, Shizuo wished he could sink below the tablecloth right now and simply become a troll. Life under a bridge _not_ doing/saying stupid things seemed really attractive right now. Even if he'd be homeless with Hibiya.

"Senpai is multi-skilled. Over-qualification for a job warrants higher pay. Senpai could write a book about a sick, psychopathic feline-canine-troll hybrid and its life story. It could become a running television series. Trolineadog Whisperer." (A/N: Troll-feline-dog) Vorona nodded as if her outrageous conclusion made perfect sense, and Shizuo wondered why Izaya suddenly looked so sane all of a sudden.

"Um, yeah. Maybe you could mention that to the manager... He'd be... thrilled?" Tom decided to take a bite out of his pastry and try to ignore the absurdity of imagining a Trolineadog Whisperer where hurling a sadistic, light-fearing chimera counted as good communication for _both_ parties.

"No... I think I'm weird enough as is..." Shizuo followed Tom's lead, shoving a whole cupcake into his mouth. Maybe if he just gagged himself with some cholesterol on a bun, as Izaya used to call it, he'd stop saying dumb shit like that. Or maybe if he gagged and suffocated, he'd stop thinking of the flea.

At precisely this time, a warm weight leaned against Shizuo's leg. He choked on his cupcake in surprise, peering under the tablecloth and frowning at the raven resting against his calf. Hibiya yawned in a decidedly catty way and flicked the tablecloth towards Shizuo's face, into Tom's line of sight.

In the ensuing moments, Tom started praying aloud for protection from the nightmare-ish Tom-hating abomination of evolution, while Vorona started scrolling through her list of contacts, probably for an exorcist, or maybe the SWAT team judging by Tom's reaction, and Shizuo attempted to extract the cholesterol on a bun from his oesophagus and wave frantically at Vorona to stop searching for a witch-doctor.

What his kouhai got from the spastic hand gestures was to nod in agreement and hand him her phone. Some dumbass on the other end greeted him in a creepily cheery way that reminded him of those ugly-as-sin talking zombie toys for children that said pre-recorded messages.

At an utter loss of what the _fuck_ to do and still with a cupcake lodged in his throat, Shizuo could only make strangled whines that could seriously pass for the call of a cat-dog-troll. Predictably it was interpreted by the shifty guy on the other end as such, and he was then subject to some strange chanting through the earpiece, some of which were apparently praying for his possessed being to be free of the Pastafarian demons of the flying spaghetti monster atrocity that passed for a religion. (A/N: that's a real religion, and whackjob's views don't represent the authors either.) His what-the-fuck-I-would-rather-be-a-goddamn-troll-than-put-up-with-this-shit-even-if-I-had-to-be-homeless-with-the-flea feeling only intensified.

Meanwhile, an oblivious Vorona had joined Tom in praying for Tom against being horribly maimed by Shizuo's pet carnivore-fiend that ate faces, in a horribly exaggerated parody of Chinese whispers.

With great effort, the blond managed to swallow the offending piece of pastry, at least partly satisfied that the stupid thing would be melting in acid in his stomach. The hard gulp and sharp inhale he took in afterwards somehow convinced off-his-rocker that Shizuo had been cured of an ungodly noodle ball and he received a lecture about the curse of the rubbery udon and never looking the same at the flobbery ramen ever again, none of which he understood. It only went to show how used to crazy he was becoming when he vaguely pondered the modern use of the not-word flobbery and not what the fuck straightjacket was talking about anymore.

He promptly shut the phone and ended the call, cutting off a vehement spiel about how the depraved fettuccini had once robbed a library.

Wordlessly, he tossed the cell back to Vorona, who swiftly pocketed it. "I shall help Tom-senpai return home safely. It is good you both agreed to receive aid from the exorcists." She nodded at him and tugged a vegetable-like Tom out the door, which closed with a strangely normal click.

Both agreed? Shizuo wondered if the next time he saw his boss whether or not he'd be preaching against noodles too. His next thought was how deep in shit he was with said boss. He groaned and let his head slam against the tabletop.

Under the table, his cat was shaking against his leg.

* * *

**That was funny to write.**


	8. Artfill!

Sorry it's not an update guys ^^; (Well, not a chapter update.)

In case anyone's interested, I drew a trailer for this fanfiction~

There are a few hints about the upcoming story in there, so please check it out! ^^

lunady-tan. tumblr

Remove the spaces~

Thanks for your support guys!

I'll be busy with school, since it's my last year of high school and I need to work hard. So let this tie you guys over until I can write another chapter ^^


	9. Chapter 8

**Sheep-is-Cute: Thanks! Happy New Year to you too! Awww OP, you're almost always the first to review! And you give such long reviews, it makes me feel awesome 3**

**Whether Sakuraya disappeared or not is a mystery! He would have vanished in the real world, as you'll see later. I'm trying to keep them in character, but it's pretty hard! I haven't watched the anime, actually... .**

**I've always had troubles writing humour, since dialogue can be rather difficult to write. I'm glad you found it amusing! I didn't think you could get instant French toast, but I'm not sure. I mean, there are all sorts of weird things nowadays, like chocolate chip corndogs and bagged milk... I love it when Shizuo is sort of awkward and flounders around a bit. It's cute to me!**

**It's not that I dislike Vorona or anything, since I haven't seen anything she's in really... For the sake of humour, someone had to be really outrageous, and that ended up being her. Well, Pastafarianism was a religion that was created by atheists, if I recall properly, made to be a joke about religion. It seems some people took it seriously. I read somewhere that a teenager told the teacher he was wearing a pasta strainer as part of his religious garb just for fun and he got away with it.**

**I'm happy that you're enjoying it! I'm sorry about the semi-long hiatus. Don't worry about the drawing! I haven't really gotten around to drawing either, to be honest. Our school gives transition homework when we move up years, so I have summer holiday homework to do too!**

**Rai Rai Blue: Haha~ I'm glad you liked the humour! I don't expect everyone to review every chapter, but I'm delighted to hear that you're back! Yes, I initially had Izaya waking up soon, but I thought that wasn't enough backstory and build up. Hopefully, that's still okay.**

**Deceptively Sane: Well, I won't say which, but Sakuraya gave Izaya a choice. He could either absorb Sakuraya back into his consciousness just in time or let him go. Yeah, Izaya is kind of unstable right now. He has to deal with a lot of things.**

**I'm happy you found it funny! It was a first shot at writing comedy, so I'm glad it came out well! Oh yes, Hibiya has Izaya's composed exterior when he wants to. He was being a bit cheeky and childish in this chapter- after living with Shizuo for a while, he can lower his guard a bit.**

**I don't know whether I can update faster. It usually depends on whether my plot bunnies are running properly. More experiences overseas did help me with some inspiration though! I hope to update faster! Thank you very much!**

**tsukiyo-rin: Thank you!**

**Ose93: Another fanfic? Oh dear gosh, now you're giving me ideas... **

**thisgirldanielle: Thanks! I'm so glad you enjoyed it~ xD**

**izayalover: Thanks ^^! **

**aoi hono doragon: Aww thank you! I will try!**

**FreeSketch: Haha I'm happy you like it so much! Don't go into withdrawal! Have some more :D**

**Mika Nakane: Wow thanks! I wouldn't have said it was very smart to make plot bunnies like that xD My vocabulary use isn't that good, you should see caffeinekitty's! Her writing is simply awesome! **

**Technically this isn't my first fanfiction. I wrote a few about 4 years ago, but they were really terrible, since I was only 13 haha! Do those count? But this is my first serious fanfiction in years.**

**Author-chama: Thanks!**

* * *

**Thanks for waiting patiently everyone! I'm sorry it's taken so long- life problems and all that. Year 12 is very busy. **

**I won't be able to post a lot- sorry guys. So here's to Izaya's birthday!**

* * *

"Where."

"Huh?" Shinra turned to face a glowering Roppi.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Celty entered the room at this point, having returned from her recent job.

"Sakuraya." Irritated, Roppi tugged sharply at his sleeves until smooth black fabric slid further down his upper arms and would have dropped to the floor if he hadn't crossed them.

A quick glance at Celty revealed her shared bewilderment. "I don't know. Isn't he still asleep?"

"No, he's not." Anger began to build in his eyes, wild and destructive, a foreshadowing of the manic fury he had displayed when he shattered the mirror.

"Well, he hasn't left since that time he went to Izaya's apartment. So he's probably somewhere around here cleaning?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Shinra knew he had made a mistake.

"Don't toy with me damn it! He's not anywhere in your apartment and don't even _try_ to tell me I overlooked a pink human when it only takes 20 seconds to make a complete tour of the entire place!" Roppi was shaking. As if to prove his point, he swung his head around, making a sweep of the room. Save for the unlikely event that his counter-part was hiding behind some furniture while they argued about his absence, he could see any spot where Sakuraya could have been sitting or standing.

His eyes landed on a potted plant. It was a small and lushly green, with sizeable pink blooms that reached outwards like bells.

Azaleas.

He snapped.

"HE'S NOT HERE-" Attempting to grab the pot with trailing sleeves was no easy task, and he soon had cracked ceramic and small pyramids of loam soil on the floor. Muscles tense, he blamed the sleeves and the round, smooth surface of the pot for the way it kept shaking and sliding out of his grip. He was trying, he really was and those pink dots of colour were doing nothing to help him, trembling in his vision as the pot shook, and making his vision blurry. It must have been the flowers, he blamed them for the way their bright splash mixed with everything else, the forest green of their foliage, the flat silver of the windowsill, the muddy beige of the carpet and every shadow cast by furniture turning the other hues shades darker.

"Roppi?" Shinra's voice sounded very far away.

It must have been the imprinting of the glaring pink on his eyeballs from staring for too long when his vision became painfully bright, overtaking everything else until he could see nothing but white, white, white. Whorls of light grey danced in the blank space, a pale kaleidoscope where all the colours have escaped, looking like a washed out from a negative. A high keening noise grated on his ears and blocked out all the other sound in the room, leaving him disoriented.

He felt sick.

Roppi must have blacked out for a while, because when he could finally see and hear properly again, there was a blank in his memory of what happened with the azaleas. Yet he relaxed infinitesimally, when his ears weakly picked up the steady hum of Psyche and his body shifted towards the warmth of a white parka instinctively. But his mind shied away.

"Let go."

Psyche slid away from him, still humming softly. As usual, his expression was inappropriately bubbly and carefree, but Roppi didn't notice. His gaze was locked on the shards of broken umber, squeezed tightly in his hands until they too, turned white.

The raven slowly gathered up the broken pot and its plant, the blooms so perfect and well-shaped. Holding it up to the light, he ignored the quiet, worried auras of his hosts and allowed the startling fuchsia to burn his eyes.

He hurled the plant and its pot.

For a short moment, the delicate flowers, the soil that sustained them and the pot that cradled them were suspended in the air, sailing a fluid arc across the room. They were beautiful. They were brief.

The fragments of pot were the first to hit the wall, breaking and clattering to scatter on the floor below. The soil and flowers hit quietly, with a mere 'plop' and then they lingered almost whimsically on the white wall, before joining the pot on the tiles. Some of the blooms were crushed by the impact, others bruised, and a few in good condition, but no one moved to save the plant.

"He's not... He can't be..." Roppi panted, fatigued.

Unsure, Shinra battled with himself of what to do next, but it was Celty who moved first.

The dullahan took a few steps towards the red and black clad male.

"Don't."

She faltered, her steps slower, but not ceasing.

"I SAID DON'T-"

There was blood. Even though they were mere projections of Izaya, they were still, in a way alive, and this made it seem so much more surreal somehow.

"H-hey, don't do that!" Shinra steeled himself and moved towards Celty. There was no way he was letting his beloved take on a crazier version of Izaya alone. What if he jumped her because he had less self-control?

Stab. Twist. Plunge. Twist. Push. Twist.

Alarmed, Celty did the first thing she could think of. Confronted with the horror of a violently self-inflicting mirror image of Izaya, she closed the distance between them and slapped him, hard. Angrily typing in a message, she shoved it into his face to make him read it.

You're too old to be throwing a tantrum! Get a grip!

Eyes narrowed until they were mere slits of scarlet, like the blood soaking thickly into his parka, blending into the dark material. The jacket messily slipping off his arms quivered and his expression darkened. Going along with her gut, Celty whipped out her shadows in a block when a slim knife tried to embed itself into her shoulder. Wiry strings of black slithered up Roppi's legs and tried to contain him, but he kicked and fled to the other side of the room.

"I can't believe you just did that! We've been looking after you for so long and that's how you repay my beautiful Celty? Heinous!" Shinra wailed.

Another mistake.

Black matter shot in front of the doctor, just in time. A flick blade made a loud clang on the tiles. Despite the fact that Roppi couldn't see him, Shinra frowned in disapproval. This was too much.

"Roppi, you need to calm down. We'll find Sakuraya, okay? He probably went out to Izaya's apartment again to fetch or fix something." How strange it was that he needed to use his doctor voice on an Izaya-like person.

"Izaya..." Said person's voice was equally quiet, but it held a note of finality. Before either of them could react, Roppi dashed towards the patient room, his knife still buried in his torso to the hilt.

"Wait!" Shinra and Celty responded at the same time, following close behind the mentally-unstable raven. The headless woman's shadows raced ahead of her, wrapping securely around Roppi's arms and legs, freezing his movement. Both acknowledged that subconsciously, they had expected to see violence, but it was still a surprise, somehow, to see an upraised arm and a down-facing blade in hand, poised above the motionless body. The methodical beep of the life-support machines was persistent, like a dismal soundtrack to a movie.

It was easy to drag the suddenly pliant male out of the white room, and back into the living room. She was not sure whether it was safe to let Roppi go, so she kept the shadow leashes to a certain length and released their grip on his appendages slightly, in case he tried to return. Instead, he dropped to his knees next to the azalea and gathered the soil around the roots. Carefully, he held the pieces of pot together and scooped the flower and loam back inside. It almost looked like there hadn't been any aggression in the room, except for the damaged plant and the spots of black dirt trailed across the floor. Unexpectedly, the slender raven hugged it, curling almost protectively around it, a fragile shield for an even more fragile life.

Psyche was still sitting by himself on the couch, and unlike Shinra and Celty, he had no reaction whatsoever when Roppi's body began to fade.

The flick blade hit the tiles just as the seemingly whole pot fell apart, leaving a mess of scarred azalea amidst a sprawl of brown and black and red.

And there was no other trace of Roppi left.

"Sweet dreams~" Psyche sang and rocked on the cushions.

* * *

Vorona had called him with a surprisingly normal conversation that morning, especially when his last memory of her wasn't particularly... pleasant. "An acquaintance mentioned in passing to me yesterday that caring for plants can help reduce stress and anger. I recommend senpai acquire oxygen-producing organisms for breaking instead." She paused. "Not including plankton."

"Uh no, I don't think your friend meant breaking plants helps with stress." Shizuo frowned slightly and fingered the cigarette in his other hand.

"'Taking care of' is a euphemism for disposing of, yes? And senpai takes care of debtors with violence. Thereby taking care of plants entails damage of leafy bodies." Her tone was clipped and self-assured, as if she regularly walked into gardening outlets and smashed potted plants. Considering her crazy company from the day before, Shizuo wondered if he would walk into a store someday and bear witness to an anti-environmental whack-a-mole.

"No, 'taking care of' plants means watering them and giving them crap for fertiliser, you know? Helping them grow." His hand was almost halfway to his hair before he quickly lowered it to resting on his knee. Izaya would mock him for being protozoan enough to accidentally set himself on fire. Hell, he wasn't even _here_ and Shizuo knew what kind of shit he'd be spouting. Probably something about old dogs, new tricks and how fire had been with the Neanderthals for ages and he still didn't know how to use it.

And damn his brain too, for making up spiels in the flea's absence like he actually missed them or something else equally stupid.

"Oh." Vorona took a moment to dwell on that 'new' revelation. Really, other normal people thought of window boxes and crap before they came up with plant-icide. "Then senpai should depart for the greenery store and purchase chlorophyll-infused life forms. Good for peace of mind. Better than cat-dog-trolls."

"Uhh yeah." Somehow those last sentences sounded strangely like Simon. Just replace 'for peace of mind' with sushi and you got his new slogan of the day.

"Affirmative? Then do not let me keep you. Good bye senpai."

Click.

Well.

All weird things aside, he supposed it wasn't a bad idea. Keeping plants was a lot safer than looking after anything that moved, and it was still the responsibility of a life right? Maybe it would be a good idea. There was something decidedly relaxing about coming home after a fucked up day and knowing there was something he _couldn't_ fuck up because it never asked or expected anything from him. And anything it needed, he could give. Well, as long as his landlord decided he was allowed to keep the basic utility of water.

"Hey, flea. We're going out." Turning his head to look down at the raven curled up on the couch, Shizuo raised an eyebrow at the bright colours on the phone's screen. "You're still playing that game?"

Hibiya shot him a slight pout and swiped his finger across the strings, effectively feeding the little frog creature. Some movements were a bit hurried, others patiently waiting for the swing of the candy.

"Just cut all the strings." Shizuo snorted. "If the damn thing can't just get up and go to the candy, it doesn't deserve to eat, lazy shit."

A roll of the eyes. _You would say that_, Hibiya seemed to say. Still, the slender male tapped quickly on the phone, cancelling the game and typing a message for him. In the beginning, it was possible to advance by merely severing all the strings. As the game continues, it is not so simple. There are... variables. Offering the words for him to read, Hibiya erased it and typed again. And the frog can't move. His eyes flicked to the ground. That's why it's a game, ne?

A frown furrowed the blond's eyebrows. _That_ last sentence sounded too much like the flea. Gee, all of a sudden everyone is sounding like someone else. _Probably picked up on the flea's paranoia or something... Gross._ "Whatever," he grumbled and headed towards the door. In the doorway, he paused. "Is it hard?"

Hibiya inclined his head.

"Picking which strings to cut."

He gave a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes, a flat gaze that the blond returned for a few moments before scanning the hallway, suddenly aware that he'd been conducting a conversation in the threshold. A cheerful jingle of metal made a switch in his brain flick and he frowned. "My keys," he said, deadpan, and turned back.

As innocent as an Izaya mirror-image could be, Hibiya gave a small smile again and dangled the offending item in his face.

"Shut up."

His smile widened a fraction.

"Yeah I _know_. Goddamn flea just has to nitpick everything. Tch." Shizuo shook his head and grabbed his keys as he pushed through the door, Hibiya a silent black shadow following close behind.

As soon as they reach the greenery section of the store, Shizuo has to pause and wonder just what the hell he was doing. Sure, when Vorona had mentioned it, it seemed like a good idea, and being the 'Neanderthal' he was, he'd just gone and ran with it. And sure, he'd had a nagging sense of 'this is a really stupid idea' when he was walking down the street and people were gawking openly at the flea following him quietly and peacefully, as if they were all shocked at the amount of cash they'd need to be forking out over apocalyptic bunkers. And yet it hit him harder that coming here, he realised, he also didn't have the faintest clue about plants, let alone how to take care of them. And _sure_ he had thought that taking care of plants had just meant periodically dumping water and crap on them, but apparently there was a limit to how much, and how much crap the pots themselves could hold and-

"Hi, can I help you?" A nervous saleswoman approached him, looking about as frail as the wilting sprouts he could spot huddling in what looked like plastic egg cartons.

"Uh, no that's fine." _Yes_, his mind supplied, berating him for his refusal of help he would probably desperately need in the first few minutes, no, _seconds_ of him looking at plants. "Just... browsing," he continued awkwardly, and nudged Hibiya in the side to stop the spread of an amused look he knew would be surfacing right about now.

She shuffled away, fluffing some ostentatious flowers ambitiously competing for 'most gaudy bloom' and something tense inside him relaxed, but only a little. Maybe it was the whole fragility of the curved glass arching over their heads, letting in shy beams of sunlight, or the thin stalks and leaves of the plants thriving below, a green carpet of small lives growing in every corner, all infinitely more breakable than any of his regular outlets of frustration. How the heck was this a good idea, when the thought of accidentally crushing something was ringing alarm bells in every cell of his being?

Hibiya glided past him, examining a row of cacti. An odd whim of humans was to give meaning to plants. A whole language was born off merely having plants as representing reactions. A yellow rose symbolises jealousy, did you know? He showed a mystified Shizuo the message and ran his fingers lightly over the spines of a ball cactus. I like cacti, he added.

"You do?" Shizuo replied, for a lack of a better response. It wasn't often that the flea indicated his preference in a direct way, instead of beating around the bush like he always did. _Stupid flea, it's easier to beat through the bush damn it. _

They are very hardy plants- they require minimal water and can flourish adequately in sand, historically. Oftentimes now, they will grow in soil, like these. Still, it is not necessary to provide fertiliser. Roppi hated them. The random afterthought threw him off.

"Why?"

He prefers marigolds.

What.

"Aren't you all technically Izaya?" Shizuo frowned. It was probably the flea being screwed-up bipolar again.

Yes, but we are different too. Psyche likes white roses, for instance.

"Flowers are flowers." Shizuo shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair, itching for a cigarette. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead.

Why have we come here?

"Tch... Heck if I know now... Vorona said it'd be good to keep some plants around. I dunno- to liven up the place or just to take care of something." His brow furrowed, remembering the journey here. "Never mind, it was a dumb idea anyway. I don't know the first thing about looking after anything."

Hibiya inclined his head. It has more to do with learning than with instinctively knowing what to do. Besides, plants do not require much, or often. Little effort is involved.

In his head, Izaya's voice mocked him. _You can't do everything by instinct, Shizu-chan. I mean, I know you try, but surely even you've realised by now human interaction has evolved farther than grunting and throwing things, ne?_ In his head, he punched Izaya in the face.

"Still, there are so many..." He trailed off, looking around, lost.

It is mostly a matter of preference. Or if one is rather insistent on harmonious interior design, colours can be matched. Izaya kept purple hyacinths for variety.

Shizuo snorted, "as if I care about matching colours."

You do not have a preference?

"No. I hardly even know what I'm looking at. Too many names."

After considering him for a few moments, Hibiya tilted his head and wandered off, between the orderly lines of displays. Figuring the flea was going to choose something for him, the debt collector followed him, looking curiously at the racks of pots.

There were indeed many varieties. Countless names in tongue-twisting Latin or some other weird language he didn't recognise were printed neatly on colourful cards with pictures of the plant, in case some idiot moved them around. As he compared them to their physical counterparts, he decided there were a lot of idiots. Some hung from suspended pots, their leaves, flowers and stems cascading over the sides eagerly growing in the direction of gravity. Others were wound around posts, and others were trimmed in neat shapes.

A pot was thrust into his hands, and a yellow cup-shaped bloom sat on top of the long stalk. "What's this?"

Tulip. Hibiya flashed the word at him and walked a few metres away, inspecting a bright fuchsia flower.

"You know..." Hibiya looked back at him. "You haven't said anything about the pink flea yet."

The raven waved a hand at the flower he had been looking at. Shizuo looked at the card, matching the picture to the plant.

Azaleas.

* * *

**Would anyone be interested in me doing little teasers of the next chapter here? Or should I leave it?**


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